Would you mind typing out your thoughts on the quest of the beginning and how you thought it'd go vs how it transformed into the what it is now? I am very interested.
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The Lost Primarch Quest
- Thread starter Daemon Hunter
- Start date
Heart of Gemstone
This took over a month to write, which is honestly pretty piss poor writing time for me. I think I will try and just do something a little shorter before getting back to my major omakes.
Heart of Gemstone
It had been over six months since Orion had been attached to the White Scars. He'd like to say it was a relatively typical period, during which he got used to the nuances and idiosyncrasies of such an atypical Legion. Yet he should've known better after his experience in the Steppes of Azim. The White Scars were not like the Wardens or Dark Angel's discipline or formality. That wasn't to say the Riders eschewed such things; instead, their focus was towards other aspects of camaraderie.
One could perhaps describe it as being a bit more "lenient" towards individual squads; each squad was free to follow their training and procedures. There wasn't a controlled system of practices within the White Scars, at least not in the conventional sense. There were still drills, live-fire exercises, and in-class instruction, but those were to see if Astartes were keeping up with their basic skills.
Improvements were up to the squads themselves. A captain, or a noyan-khan, could order a general focus towards those in their company, but sergeants had to guide or command their troops towards what they had to do and then let them decide how to accomplish it. Utter chaos compared to the Dark Angel's training, yet Orion had seen the success rate reports to prove it.
Unfortunately, Orion realized that only the White Scars could pull off due to their nature as a Legion and how the Khan structured it. He would never see the Iron Warriors, Iron Hands, Dark Angels, or even the Wardens allow for this much freedom for each Astartes. However, it was still extraordinary to watch in practice. The training tended to cause individuals in each squad to gravitate towards one another in hopes of accomplishing their assigned tasks. In doing so, squad cohesion improved immensely. The situation changed on a company level, or as the White Scars called them, "Hordes," though
One veteran sergeant explained to Orion that it was for several reasons, such as when a noyan-khan needs to involve the entire horde in some activity. After that, things got a bit more complicated via two other scenarios. The first was that they were preparing for a Naadam, a ceremonial battle between the hordes that had recently gained significant honors in battle. Although the White Scars called them "Games" of all things. To participate in a Naadam, you had to have scored at least five kills against a worthy foe and offered a tribute to the spirits.
The second instance was that someone within the horde (or sometimes even the entire horde) had committed a grave mistake or dishonor upon themselves, the Legion, or even the Khan himself. To that end, this horde prepared for a Tsagaan Sar, a Battle Redemption. It was considered a last-ditch effort for this stain on their honor. It had to be cleansed before the spirits of Chogoris and their Primarch in battle.
When you participated in Tsagaan Sar, it was a fight for survival. You had to face off against a champion of the Legion. One who the Primarch or First Captain handpicked. And for those that genuinely wished to cleanse themselves of their dishonor, they can elect to fight the First Captain or the Khan himself. All they had to do in that instance was survive for one minute in one-on-one combat.
No one ever picked the latter option. Thankfully, it was infrequent for a Tsagaan Sar to be called, especially during compliance. The Khan forgave inevitable failures or reevaluated the company's capabilities. Just because the Warhawk did not abide weakness did not mean he was without mercy or understanding towards his son's failures and faults. At least, to a certain extent anyway. Yet Orion had yet to hear of any situation. His warden brothers were adjusting to the strange training regime well enough. Yet Orion hadn't been placed in command of a squad of his own.
No, the Warhawk had other designs for the Knight-Warden.
For starters, Ramuh was now Orion's pet project. That wasn't to say that Orion was providing instruction on the ways of being a psyker. Not only was he utterly unqualified for such a thing, but the Stormseers also guarded such practices. Instead, the Warhawk wanted Orion to instruct Ramuh on the nature of the Great Enemy. Better to train the Stormherald on such matters and better steel himself from such corruption. Per the instructions of the Khan, he wanted Ramuh to act as a sort-of apprentice to Orion during the exchange. Furthermore, he would be the Knight-Warden's back-up during any high-end missions.
To Orion, it appeared that the Warhawk was interested in him training a highly effective strike force at the squad level. The idea certainly had merit. However, Orion started noticing a trend of aspirants and students being sent his way. Like Ramuh, most of his "recruits" had untapped potential and a few complications. The Knight-Warden was sure that the Khan was intentionally sending him such individuals, but whether it was a test or an actual desire for Orion to see their improvement was lost on him.
Nevertheless, Orion hadn't thought much of it. His Legion had an assortment of characters and personalities that would've been deemed "problematic" by the likes of the Dark Angels or the Imperial Fists, but divergence from what was considered "normal" among Astartes did not indicate a lack of skill or capability. Kesar had once told his sergeants and captains that there was no such thing as an incompetent marine, only an underutilized or unchallenged one. Although, he also warned that some individuals had more difficult dispositions regarding leadership or command.
Yet even the most stringent Legions knew that a soldier's true colors would appear when it came a time for battle. Human or Astarte, it didn't matter. Orion had long since learned that truth. And sometimes, those "true colors" were not positive qualities. Even so, as a leader, Orion would be expected to try his hardest to make every man or woman given to his command into something worthy of the Khan's arsenal.
If Orion was here to train would-be heroes for the White Scars, then so be it.
---
The next four months resulted in Orion seeing a limited amount of activity for the most part. He continued training Ramuh and the few others in his squad. Word spread around the fleet that the Warhawk was preparing for something big. Orion knew the truth, at least to a certain extent. The Khan was laying the foundation for his expedition into the farthest reaches of the wilds of space. When he was brought into these strategic planning sessions, the Primarch made it clear that their objective was to clear a path for future expeditions. Still, their primary objective was recon, observation, and elimination. The element of surprise was considered a critical factor regarding any possible enemies they encountered.
As such, training was paramount to keep the Astartes ready and able. Even if the general focus was on building FOBs and supply zones for the expedition, the Warhawk expected results from his sons. The Khan had high hopes in these expectations. Yet, even so, no one knew what the end goal was now. Even Yesugei and Jubal were in the dark of their gene-sires machinations.
Orion was convinced the Warhawk had something grandiose in the works. The Khan certainly enjoyed his own take on spectacles. Orion would be expected to participate in such events, no doubt. But Orion would only stay as long as expected of him. He was never fancied such festivities. Too many reminders of his previous life. The mire of tedium and trivialities of the nobility was always tiresome.
Regardless, a Legion was a brotherhood, which meant such activities were necessary for the confidence and morale of one's brothers. Besides, there was never anything tedious and trivial about Astartes gatherings. Even more so with the White Scars. They were unpredictable.
So Orion was not surprised when he received new instructions, directly from the Warhawk himself. He was to aid one of the Khan's unique assets. Another psyker of all things. A non-Astartes as well. The Warhawk told Orion that this Kuveer was recently obtained after a short compliance and folded into the White Scars auxiliary forces. Unfortunately, there were issues with getting Kuveer and his followers to obey commands or working alongside the other mortal elements within the White Scars.
"A stubborn bunch," He described to Orion, "The worst attribute of Roboute and Perturabos sons. Arrogance and logical certainty." What a lovely combination for a psyker. "However, there is a good soul nestled in that stone heart of his, one that I believe speaks volumes of his character. We need only find a means to bring it out. As such, I leave this riddle for you to resolve, Captain."
Orion held back his misgivings on this assignment. It wasn't his place to question the Primarch, especially over something benign as this mission. Still, the Knight-Warden felt apprehension, especially after reading the report on Kuveer and the highlighted points of the compliance.
The Knight-Warden then realized what he was about to undertake now.
---
Kuveer and his people hailed from the world of Buzhou. Such a world was described as an unpolished diamond. Uncut and flawed, but beautiful and strong. The makings of something desirable. Before the Imperium's arrival, Buzhou was entering a period of substantial industrial growth, its mineral wealth feeding industrial cities and nascent hives.
Most of the world was under the control of a governmental apparatus known simply as the "State." The State was a combination of military, oligarchs, and elder statesmen. This meant that for Buzhou, all its resources were dedicated to the State's preservation and development. People were most certainly included in that regard. Anyone who fits a particular niche or provides an exceptional service was deemed "essential" to the State.
Psykers significantly fell into that category.
To be born a psyker in Buzhou meant your life was already decided upon. Namely in service to the state and its people. No surprise then that Kuveer fell into that category. When Orion looked into his background, he learned that he was a special case.
He hadn't been found as a psyker. Instead, he had been pre-determined to be one years before his birth. Evidently, the last gamma diviner had learned of the geomancer's fate to the point of determining his parents. As such, Kuveers mother was taken to a secured facility. Kuveer had been born, raised, and trained within what could only be described as fortress-monasteries. Although Buzhou was not religious, they practiced a doctrine similar to the Golden Path known as the Undying Spirit.
From a glance, it was the standard focus of most nations: Order. Fraternity. Unity. Dedication. All of which circled back to adherence towards the State. No surprise then that Kuveer firmly believed in the Undying Spirit and was an adherent to the State.
Records of his early life and training were lost during the compliance. The capital of Buzhou was razed, although not by the White Scars, but rather the remaining leadership of the State. What was left painted a rather grim picture. Indications of gene therapy, intensive physical training, and a rigorous education resulted in Kuveer becoming an incredibly dangerous soldier at twelve years old.
At 16 years old, the State declared Kuveer as a Ruby Soul, their designation for what they likely thought to be the strongest psyker in existence. It was odd to imagine it, but Buzhou was a peaceful world. There wasn't much of a need for someone like Kuveer. However, the State needed to keep the people afraid and compliant. Thus Kuveer was made to be the people's champion while secretly being their warden.
The next twenty years saw Kuveer earn a rather dangerous reputation among the other psykers, the Buzhou military, and even the State leadership. He had gained considerable popularity and influence among the lower rank and file, other psykers, and ordinary citizens. Kuveer had gone from being their warden to their hero after using his powers of earth manipulation to find new sources of water fuel and even help create natural roads and freeways.
It seemed that before the White Scars' arrival, Kuveer was deemed a "detrimental political actor" after he started speaking out against certain practices, such as the lack of civil liberties under the State's rule. To his credit, Kuveer remained loyal until the very end, even when he had been "arrested" for seditious acts just weeks before the Imperium's arrival.
Naturally, when the Warhawk did arrive, the State was quick to make promises to Kuveer and his growing factions. If he could stop the invaders, then he'd be allowed to make some of the changes that he had spent years lobbying for. Even so, Kuveer was ready to defend Buzhou regardless.
Unfortunately for him, the Warhawk proved impossible to stop. No matter what Kuveer did, from using crystalized spears to attack ships in orbit, to rending the very land to stop landing zones, and even melting the steel treads of tanks…it wasn't enough to halt the Khan of Khans.
When Kuveer and his men surrendered, that was the end of the resistance on Buzhou. The State collapsed within only a few days as they turned on each other, hoping to be spared from the invader's fury or ready to serve them on a moment's whim. Orion later learned from Khan that the locals did more damage than anything the White Scars were expected to do.
Tragically, the brief civil war that followed resulted in the complete collapse of Buzhou. Thankfully, the Imperium of Man soon restored order to a more than compliant population. All that was left now was the fate of the psykers and Kuveer.
Ultimately, the Khan decided to spare them. Although, becoming part of the auxiliary force might have been more punishment than mercy. Most mortal psykers attached to the Legions tended to not last long. Trying to keep up with Astartes was never an easy task. One could only imagine what horrors and enemies they'd soon face. But such thoughts didn't matter now. They were now Orion's problem.
---
Orion was told that Kuveer and his men were at deck Echo-02, one of the fuel processing centers and ultimately a rather grimy and polluted location, but unfortunately, it was to be their home. Most of the crew didn't like psykers living near the hab-decks, nor did other regiments wish to share their own "claims" with their like.
As Orion made his way down to Echo-02, he had time to ponder the reasons that Kuveer and his people were forced down into such an awful location.
Perhaps one of the most reductive practices in the Imperial military was that of "Deck Claiming" while onboard a ship. No one knew how it actually started or how it became such a widespread and accepted procedure, but Orion figured it started early during the Great Crusade.
A Deck Claim, or claims, was as it sounded. A group from outside the ship would find either a single or multiple sections of a vessel, move to take control of it, and then "claim" it as their home away from home until they made planetfall. When Orion first heard of the practice, he attributed such practices to that of squatting on someone's land.
Unfortunately, it was a well-accepted practice. The Imperial Army and Armada did nothing to stop it. If anything, some commanders and officers encouraged the behavior because it, hopefully, resolved several problems in one go. As long as no one caused any trouble for the captain or admiral, mind you.
And everyone practiced it. There was even a hierarchy in place. Nobles, government officials, military commanders, esteemed dignitaries, and anyone who could command a ship, regiment, or company were put in the most comfortable and luxurious rooms on a vessel. They were far and away from the rest of the crew. More often, even their own soldiers or officers were deemed unworthy of such a reward.
After that, you have lower officers (Majors and Lt. Colonels), the personal body-guards or protection details, specialists, and other "important" officials like clerks, magistrates, or even tithe collectors. They stayed in what could be called the "Apartments" of a ship, which depending on whoever ran the vessel, could range from equally luxurious or "modest" to someone from a Hive World.
Then you had the tech-priests and their ilk. They stayed close to the most critical sections of the ship. No one bothered them. Not unless someone had to.
And then…there was everyone else. These were the lowest echelon of officers, minor scribes, and the rest of the ship's command staff. Ultimately, these people were instructed and required to find a place for hundreds of thousands, if not millions of troopers, to find room for the regiment's equipment, maintain discipline and order among them, and a hundred other minor problems that would inevitably crop up.
Imagining men and women, who barely had any training in company discipline or leadership experience on this scale, becoming the sole voice of authority and reason to what amounted to a flying city hurling through the stars was not an envious task.
Most did not try to imagine the organized chaos that followed on a ship with the arrival of millions of foreign soldiers. A ship's crew could either be entirely new to the vessel or perhaps have lived in it for generations. Regardless, they all shared a common thread. This ship was their home. And these newcomers were intruding on it, even if the captain gave them permission to board. And more often than not, these strangers were a sign of trouble, maybe even doom. For where else would an army be needed if not a warzone?
And the situation only became more tenuous and turbulent as the Imperial Army troops were told to "make themselves comfortable" for the long journey ahead of them. A long journey indeed. One bad warp storm could trap a ship inside the hellscape for years. Keeping that in mind, any soldier would seek to find a comfortable place to call his new home. Even if that meant taking someone else's.
Orion had long since learned that man is a creature that desires his comforts at any cost. He may try and prevent his urges from taking hold of him, but Orion knew better after the Ritual War. Men were weak. They hungered and craved and desired whatever they could get their hands on, especially when they learned that resupply could never arrive or they could simply die in transit.
Thus the Deck Claims.
All it took was one company of soldiers to arrive and stake a claim. After that, they would begin establishing what amounted to the base of operations and gathering. More often than not, their intentions were entirely professional and even altruistic. So many troopers would often help the crew with one problem or another, mingling with the local men and women, buying their goods, and paying for their selective services.
Those were, thankfully, quite common.
Unfortunately, not all men were so virtuous. There was all manner of horror or tragic story attached to an infamous instance of a Deck Claim. Murder or rape, a firefight or riot, unlawful activities such as gambling or underground fight clubs (to say nothing of the black markets that appeared on these vessels), or worse yet, intentionally kidnapping someone to sell to a slaver. Plenty of disappearances was often chalked up to mutants from the lower decks. Then again, perhaps those that disappeared were used for darker purposes.
The crews, of course, did what they could but were often powerless. Their Armsmen were outgunned and outmatched compared to the Imperial Troopers, let alone if there was a company of Black Brigades or Astartes onboard. The vessel captain might not even lift a finger to help his own crew…for replacements were relatively cheap.
Which, in turn, made the crew resentful and even vindictive. Many heard stories of the crews, finally either fed up or seeking revenge, would use their knowledge of their own homes against the troopers. Entire decks become devoid of clean air "overnight" or a fire breaking out or perhaps even the spread of a dangerous fungus or plague. Like all things, the worst case was a fight breaking out among the ship. Thankfully, those were incredibly rare.
Yet he wondered how many small wars took place across a single battlefleet without anyone noticing them? For indeed, as long as it didn't hamper either the ship or the regiments fighting effectiveness…well, perhaps a few commanders thought it an effective means to "blood" the new recruits or keep the soldiers and crew focused on each other, not those who were in charge.
As Orion finally entered Echo-02, he considered how everyone ultimately contributed to this situation from the very top to the bottom. It made him think of another part of this conundrum. The unseen elements, those hated or feared by both sides.
Psykers, abhumans, and the unwanted.
Strange as it was to say, though, psykers and abhumans were often not the victims of direct physical attacks. Undoubtedly, even the most spite-fueled individual was aware that a psyker going mad could doom an entire section of a ship. Abhumans, while not as destructive, tended to be unpredictable. An Ogryn backed into a corner is a most ferocious fighter, and Ratlings tended to revenge in ways that could never be traced back to them.
So instead, they were made targets of ridicule scorn and simply denied services or exiled into the worst parts of the ship. Case in point, Kuveer and his men being in Echo-02. Yet their situation was made all the worse due to their circumstances that led them to become part of the White Scar's auxiliary force.
They were not Imperials, nor did they willingly serve the Imperium in the eyes of others on board the ship. They were prisoners turned into a penal company, surviving only by the grace and mercy of the Warhawk and because of their abilities. A valuable group of tools, but not men in the eyes of others and not yet proven either.
How amusing it was to Orion, which brought both the crew and troopers together, was paranoia and fear towards another group. It idly made Orion wonder if such instances could be applied towards the Astartes, albeit for vastly different reasons?
After what had happened in the Ritual War, it wouldn't surprise him if most mortal humans would ultimately come to fear the Astartes in due time. It made Orion appreciate the effort that Skullface put towards keeping the Knight-Wardens reputation intact, even after all that Orion did to ensure victory on RP-29.
Pushing such thoughts aside, Orion now had to focus on what was before him and not what had already or might come to pass.
---
Orion ran into a checkpoint, staffed by armsmen from the local brigade, no doubt. There were less than a dozen of them, and none were paying attention to anyone coming or going. Such a lackadaisical attitude for their duty. Most played cards, talked, or drank what Orion suspected to be locally brewed rotgut.
Once the officer in charge, a sergeant of some kind, noticed him, suddenly he whipped everyone into shape as if Orion hadn't seen them not doing their jobs and saluted.
"Oi, officer on deck!" He barked out to his men, "Welcome to the Grunge, Lord Astartes!"
The Knight-Warden barely paid attention to the sergeant, although what he just said sparked a bit of interest, "The Grunge?"
"Err, that is what we call this section of the fuel storage and refinement." The sergeant helpfully clarified. "Anyway, what can we help you with, sir?" At the very least, the man wasn't trying to waste Orion's time.
"I'm looking for the Buzhou detachment; they are supposed to be down here."
Now the sergeant looked confused for a moment before realization hit him, "You mean the freakers and their followers?" He quickly nodded and gestured towards one of the nearby troops, "Yeah, the freakers are about nine or so minutes from this checkpoint. Ya gotta just go down two levels on the first lift, stop on the third, and then head straight past refinement zone green. Can't miss their camp then."
Orion wondered what life must be like for a psyker if casual slurs were directed daily towards them. Indeed, no one would be calling one of the Psyker-Astartes a "freaker," even if only among their compatriots.
No matter, Orion wasn't here to speculate on that, "Right." He proceeded to continue on his journey.
The sergeant was most certainly surprised at the flagrant dismissal but still tried to offer some assistance, "I can give you one of my boys to guide you down there; it'll be a lot faster."
Orion didn't bother looking back as he spoke, "No, thank you." He needed to consider what he would now say to Kuveer and his men to make the psyker trust him. Orion did not need a random crewmember to suddenly call one of the warp-users a "freaker" out of the blue. He didn't want this task to get any more complicated than it had to.
His brief journey leads Orion through a series of halls and lifts, across grime and caked-on filth. While not anywhere near the dirtiest or disgusting places, it reminded the Knight-Warden of a few slums within an Underhive. After everything in the Ritual War, Orion hated the unclean in all its forms. Yet so much of the Imperium's population lived in such conditions. Perhaps many of the troopers, recruited from the vast multitudes of planetary people, decided that they weren't going to be packed in such living conditions once again, or if they were, things would be different than back home.
Thus these blasted Deck Claims. Somehow the Imperial Army was intentionally recreating the same mistakes that plagued so many worlds. But that was just the nature of it. Mayhaps it was just human nature, period. Cramped inside, even the greatest vessels of the Imperium could drive even the most stalwart of void-born into performing unsavory acts. It shouldn't have surprised anyone when faced with such meager living conditions.
Orion had to go only a few more minutes before he came across yet another checkpoint, but this time controlled by the group the Knight-Warden sought. He saw that they were wearing what looked to be the uniform of the Imperial Army, although Orion could see red and gold cloth armbands on their right biceps, which was no doubt used to distinguish them from anyone else in uniform. There were at least nine soldiers carrying las-carbines and wearing flak armor.
It was easy to tell that the troopers were on alert, for they also seemed to have noticed Orion at least a dozen meters out, rather than the last checkpoint that barely saw him until he was right in their faces.
"Halt." One of the troopers called out from behind an impromptu barrier made of metal crates and pallets. "This area is restricted to anyone that isn't a lieutenant or above or without orders from Colonel Robrin."
As a courtesy, Orion did stop a few meters away. "I am Captain Orion Jesk of the Eternal Wardens." He rumbled with the same tone he used that caused even the Black Brigades to stand at attention, "I seek passage through towards Echo-02 to speak with the one known as Kuveer."
Rather than respond in awe or fear, Orion could see the troopers growing tense, and one of them quickly ran over to get something. "As you say, Captain Jesk. Stand-by while I confirm with the Gemlord."
"You have one minute." Orion responded, much to the speaker's surprise, "After that, I will continue forward with or without your approval." He was an Astartes officer on a mission, and he was not required to adhere to polite procedures when they were wasting his time.
Besides, Orion wanted to see firsthand how the Buzhouians reacted under pressure.
To their credit, the conversation that took place over vox lasted precisely 52 seconds before the trooper in charge spoke up, "Captain Jesk, permission has been granted for you to proceed forward." The soldiers didn't even need further instructions before they started to break down the barricade in record time.
The trooper approached Orion and saluted, "I am Corporal Chao; let me be the first to welcome you to Echo-02, Captain." Orion gave the barest of nods before he started back on his journey. To his confusion, Corporal Chao started to follow him.
"I've been instructed to escort you to the Gemlord."
Orion knew what was happening here, "Not needed."
"Sir, it would be faster if you-"
Orion cut him off, "It would be faster, but it would not allow me to get an effective grasp on the situation here in Echo-02. You are free to tag along and provide me context, but otherwise, I will take the long way towards seeing your Gemlord."
The human struggled to come up with an argument but finally nodded in acceptance. It wasn't like he could attempt to disobey the order. Soon enough, Chao followed behind the Knight-Warden. That was good enough for Orion.
---
Orion had been informed about the technical details of the Buzhou detachment before coming to Echo-02. They were officially a light infantry regiment, although, on paper, anyone could see that they were more a support unit for the psykers that made up their detachment. Not that the Imperial Army would publically claim that such auxiliary regiments existed.
The logic was simple there. Most worlds hated psykers. So if any newcomer world heard about dedicated companies or regiments that supported the usage of psykers, they'd feel disinclined to work with the Imperium. After they joined the Imperium, such worlds would slowly learn the truth. Even then, it was only a bitter pill to swallow. Psyker support regiments or companies were such a nebulous concept among the Imperial Army, namely because they rarely took shape in any capacity.
There were only 192 official deployments of such groups among the Imperial Army in practice. To put that into a numbers perspective, they made up 0.00009% of the standing military force that the Imperium of Man could field.
Skullface told Orion that it was child's play for the Imperial Army, or more specifically the Departmento Munitorum, to hide these groups in plain sight. They were never called "Psyker Regiments or Companies" and instead given labels like "Special Activities Group" or "Esoteric Tactics and Personnel Companies" or whatever double-speak or word game the commander in charge liked to use. The same tactic, Skullface explained, that such officers used to hide illicit purchases, such as drugs, liquor, or specific services while on the military's payroll.
Every time Orion looked into the inner workings of the Imperium, he found something that needed to be changed from the ground up. Too bad, though, that wasn't his purpose in life now.
In any case, the Buzhou detachment was perhaps one of the most significant outliers among the Imperial Army, namely because they were only functionally part of it due to being attached to the White Scars. That was another instance of power and influence the Primarchs just had over the Imperium's military institutions. They could just decide to make their own regiments. If the Imperial Army would pay for such a group. Such instances were constantly questioned, especially with the Tyrant of Terra cracking down on those instances.
Then again, maybe the Warhawk didn't care if the Buzhouians were paid for their services. They had been spared death, which might have been payment enough for many. Unfortunately for the Buzhouians, resupply came courtesy of the White Scars and not the Departmento Munitorum. Orion didn't expect the Khan to be restrictive, but the Warden also knew that the Warhawk only showered those that showed promise.
None could deny that Jaghatai Khan rewarded those with merit. Unfortunately, one had to also impress the Primarch with their actions in battle. So until that point, groups like the Buzhouians were on their own and had to make do.
As Orion finally got a good feel at their situation, he was pleasantly surprised to see that they had, in fact, made due. Although Echo-02 smelled of oil, grime, and promethium, the atmosphere itself tasted stale. Even so, there was the smell of industry and human activity hanging in the air.
The first thing that Orion saw was a veritable host of Buzhouians moving resources and attempting to clean up a section of Echo-02 with water scrubbers and industrial-grade bleach. Everything about this blasted deck was dirty, but Orion could tell that it likely had been far worse before the arrival of the Buzhouians.
Corporal Chao rattled off some information to Orion: How there were at least several million cramped into Echo-02, Beta-19, and Gamma-10. It was this deck in particular that the Gemlord was commanding his detachment. No matter how many times Orion considered the logistical nightmare of housing billions of individuals across an entire fleet, he always remembered that those numbers would dwindle soon enough.
When Orion heard the supply situation, he wasn't as surprised there. Undoubtedly, the Buzhouians received only the bare minimum from the Imperium and instead had to procure resources independently. The Knight-Warden could easily see that most of the materials and equipment used by the Buzhouians were not standard Imperial make. That would change once their initial equipment pool started to run out.
As he and Chao passed through the cramped corridors, more Buzhouians paused in their work or stopped what they were doing to stare at the "intruder" on "their" deck. Orion could tell most of them looked to be either very young or old and rarely did he see anyone considered "middle-age" by human standards.
Evidently, the Buzhouians decided that any volunteers had nothing to lose or gain fighting amongst the stars. Either that or everyone here decided to follow Kuveer into the void, and willingly at that.
He noticed that each individual Buzhouian had what looked to be jewelry on their person. That was quite the odd sight. Orion could quickly tell that they were even gemstones, albeit of low quality.
"Explain the ornamentation on your troop's uniforms." Orion suddenly inquired to Chao.
Chao was surprised at the question but quickly answered, "We Buzhouians are accomplished, gold and silversmiths! Lord Kuveer himself is considered an artisan on our world, although only a master he has created a few beautiful works of art!" The man sounded proud of their leader's accomplishment. "Give us gold, silver, jade, gems, whatever metal or precious stone you can think of, and we can turn it into a work of art."
That was interesting to know. "I imagine this is how your forces will attempt to barter or pay for more goods and services." A regiment with no skills or trades to offer was doomed to banditry or collapse. Tragically, most were uneducated or untrained. Another flaw that humanity continued to propagate across the galaxy.
"You are correct, Lord Captain." Chao nodded once more, "However, we are careful to not show off or flaunt our completed goods, lest we become targets of greed or malicious individuals." Which explained why those troopers at the checkpoint that Orion encountered weren't wearing any such trinkets or ornamentation.
The pair continued their journey through Echo-02. Orion could now see the full scope of the Buzhouians and concluded that while they were soldiering through, it wouldn't last. Echo-02 was no better than a slum, yet perhaps barely above an underhive hab-block. It was one thing to survive in an enemy warzone; as Orion learned from his time on Aquisgranum, it was another to spend an entire campaign in such conditions.
Resources would start to be rationed, less they run out. Patience and restraint would begin to fray, and then camp discipline would start to weaken. Not every Buzhouian would adhere to discipline or have altruistic values, and if other regiments started fights with them for being considered a penal regiment, they would soon begin to see only enemies around them, either to kill or exploit.
"Where is Kuveer?" Orion had seen enough; it was time to focus on why he was here in the first place.
Chao pointed in what Orion assumed to be the "southern" direction, "This way, Lord-Captain. He and the other officers made a command center in what we believe to be an old overseer office." The corporal seemed to sense Orion's apprehension.
Now on their way once more, Orion considered what he might have to do in this situation to gain the Gemlords trust. As he took another brief look around at the living conditions, he saw grim faces on Buzhouians officers and subordinates alike. They would put on a brave face, but right now, it wasn't bravery they needed but discipline and hope in the midst of their situation. If they were to break here, they would most certainly not last for too long on a battlefield.
---
The overseer's office wasn't much at first glance, although Orion could tell it was spacious and large enough to hold perhaps a hundred people. Instead, as soon as Orion and Chao were allowed to pass through the sentries, the Knight-Warden saw a veritable host of cogitator banks and cooling systems. Each was arranged in a similar pattern of layered sections, designed to maximize available space.
Orion was confused when he saw what looked to be wind chimes hanging above the ceilings, all made of silver and gold. There was also the smell of incense, although that might have to cover up the smells of human sweat and the lingering scent of promethium.
A small coterie of officers moved about and paused when they spotted Orion enter their HQ. So far, though, the Knight-Warden hadn't located Kuveer. One of the officers, an older woman with grey hair, approached Orion within a few seconds.
"Captain Jesk." She greeted and nodded to the Astartes, "Welcome to our humble command center. I greet you in the name of the Gemlord. I am Marshal Liqin, although I suppose the Imperial Army has granted me the title of 'Colonel' in place of that."
Orion didn't respond as he kept looking for said Gemlord, "And where is your vaunted lord of gems? I wish to speak with him on matters of your detachment." If they were expecting him to wait, they would be sorely mistaken in the next few moments, "Bring him out, please."
Colonel Liqin looked a bit conflicted as she spoke up, "Begging pardon, Captain, but the Gemlord is finishing his meditation. He shall be out in just a few minutes."
As the Knight-Warden stared down at the Colonel, he was about ready to say that he had the next thirty seconds to stand before him…but Orion found just the tiniest bit of patience. Getting angry would help no one in these initial talks, especially not him.
"Very well." Orion crossed his arms, "I shall wait a few more minutes."
The Buzhouians seemed relieved that Orion wasn't going to be making this into an issue, which annoyed the Astartes quite a bit. He was polite and respectful, but Orion expected more professionalism from the Gemstone. He must have known that Orion was coming, yet he wasn't here to greet him?
Colonel Liqin briefly excused herself to focus on something else. This gave Orion time to consider this situation and turn to his "expert" on the matter, "This meditation," Orion looked back over at Chao, who had been silent as a mouse this entire time, who perked up, "Explain it."
"Err, yes!" Chao cleared his throat, "The Undying Spirit requires all warp-users to spend at least an hour, every morning and evening to be exact, in meditation. Due to their dangerous nature, they must remain in control of themselves at all times. Most often, a psyker would be required to take a special tonic that would allow them to enter into a waking dream."
A "waking dream"? Divination-related, perhaps? "And this is necessary for control of their powers?"
"Not necessary, but helpful." Chao clarified, "It allows for them to center themselves, to embrace the unknown, or so we are told. No one knows what the State told or taught them, even after the Imperium brought us into the fold. It doesn't matter now. Such practices will so soon fade into myth and legend."
How a man like Chao knew of such things interested Orion. "Are all within your detachment familiar with the practices and teachings of psykers from your world?"
"The Gemlord and his adherent told us as much," Chao remarked tersely, "We must be aware of their shortcomings and the necessities of what they go through to control their powers. The Undying Spirit teaches us that all humans, from the greatest prismatic souls to the weakest stonehearts, are capable of great achievements and equally great failings. It is why the State existed in the first place, to provide the necessary guidance and foundation to prevent civilization from collapsing like in the Old Collapse. Those same principles apply to those that can manipulate the warp."
Orion would need to do a bit more research on this Undying Spirit and the general history of Buzhou. Their way of life was peculiar but not strange or even uncommon compared to other cultures in the Imperium.
However, before Orion could ask another question to Chao, the corporeal noticed something and instantly stood at attention. Orion glanced over to see a newcomer enter the command center; The Gemlord Kuveer. As the Knight-Warden had already seen a picture of Kuveer, it wasn't too much of a surprise. Although, the picture didn't do the psyker justice.
Kuveer looked the part of a professional soldier but also had an aura of regalness, although he looked less like a king, more like if you gave an Astartes of the Emperor's Children the mannerisms of an Imperial Fist. Kuveer clearly believed in maintaining a grooming standard. His long ebony hair was well kept (if lengthier than Army regulations allowed), a pair of stern, shining amber-colored eyes glanced back at Orion, and while Kuveer was a bit smaller than most, he stood tall and proud before the Astartes.
'How fitting,' Orion thought to himself, 'A gemstone. Strong yet elegant.' Even his uniform reflected this, albeit it was heavily modified. The strangest thing was the number of metal ornaments on it. Orion could see everything from silver and gold to steel and iron, arranged in ways that seemed more than just him showing off.
It was almost like they were tools, or weapons, that were within reach. Orion knew that Kuveer could powerfully control metals but to the degree of using anything metallic? Did that apply to alloys as well?
Trailing behind Kuveer were what appeared to be some of his followers. A trio of what Orion initially thought to be officers, but he saw they took had an assortment of metallic objects on their person that wasn't just ornaments or trinkets. Some of his psykers, it seemed.
The mortal officers in the command center saluted Kuveer, yet Orion suspected there was also an urge to bow before the gamma. Perhaps Gemlord wasn't just a title, but a rank as well? No, that didn't fit the Buzhou utilitarianism born of the State's machination.
"Captain Jesk." Kuveer spoke with a tone that barely hid his annoyance at seeing the Astartes, "Your arrival was unexpected and required me clearing up my schedule at the last moment; nevertheless, we are honored to be visited by the so-called Angel of Humility."
Orion felt his eye twitch at hearing that blasted title again. Who the hell was spreading that blasted name around across the fleet? He shuddered to think that all the Legions would learn of it when this expedition concluded.
"Command Kuveer," Orion started with a voice that did not belay his intentions for being here, "Or do you prefer Gemlord?"
Kuveer shrugged, "Use whatever title fits your liking," Now the man was giving Orion a slight glare, "It is not like I can say or do anything otherwise." The Knight-Warden could tell that this was off to a "great" start.
"Now then," Kuveer spoke up once more, "To what do I owe this pleasure? Has the Khan of Khans sought fit to assign my detachment for active duty? I would be remiss in saying that my kin and I have been a little cooped up these last few months." He was eager that much Orion could determine from his tone now.
"Yes and no." Orion decided that this was going to be a somewhat awkward conversation, "There are currently no combat orders just yet. However, the Primarch has decided that your detachment shall be placed under my command until further notice."
That seemed to confuse the Buzhouians, "Your command?" Kuveer quietly inquired with trepidation, "With respect, Captain. It was not you that brought my world, forces, and myself to compliance. I would have thought the Primarch would at least have the courtesy to place me under the command of one of his own and not a…foreigner."
Foreigner? "While I do not have the blood of the White Scars, it is by virtue of my gene-sire and his connection to the Warhawk through the Emperor of Mankind…technically I am a nephew to the Khan." The blood ties among Astartes and Primarchs were an odd debate among scholars and marines alike.
"Hmm…distant family then." Kuveer looked surprised at this development, "Very well. Not that it matters in the end. Orders are orders, regardless of blood ties." He was quick to change his stance on the matter. Rare was it for Orion to even encounter such an issue of him being a "foreigner" to someone else once they were brought into the greater Imperium.
No matter now, "Then perhaps we can discuss this situation a bit further?" Orion looked around at the overseer's office, "Is there perhaps a strategic meeting room here?"
Kuveer snorted while his followers and officers grimaced, "As much as Echo-02 will allow. There is an old dining hall that has been converted; we can converse there, I suppose." Ah, there was that bitterness again.
"Good." It wouldn't be the worst place to hold a meeting, "I'm sure we have much to speak about."
---
The meeting room felt cramped, even though it probably could hold a hundred people in it. However, Kuveer had decided to fill it with plenty of cogitators banks and a long metal table with an integrated series of holo-projectors. How he found the money or resources or even a tech-priest to put all this in was a mystery.
Orion kept those questions to himself. Thank the Stars; he wasn't in power armor, so he didn't have to awkwardly stand around and instead found an oversized chair to sit in. Although, Orion still felt a bit out of place. He was a head taller than any Buzhouian in the room.
Aside from that, the group was relatively "comfortable," at least enough to start their discussion. For the most part, Orion was succinct and curt in addressing why he was here, the decisions made by the Warhawk, and what was to be expected going forward.
Kuveer and his men were now tangentially placed under Orion's command, but they still reported directly to the Khan or Jubal. To that end, the Knight-Warden was expected to help them "ease" into their new roles as an auxiliary support group within the White Scars. Additionally, it was the hope of the Warhawk to ensure that the Buzhouians were made aware of certain expectations.
"And those expectations are what exactly?" Kuveer finally asked from his spot at the head of the meeting table. He did not seem overly dismissive of Orion's announcements, yet the psyker was not happy at this development either.
"Only that you and your forces achieve expected success rates." The Warhawk wasn't looking for Kuveer and his people to die gloriously in battle, not unless it served a greater purpose. "As such, I am here to command but also assist your group. I have experience in working alongside human commanders, which is likely one of the core reasons for my appointment."
Kuveer slowly nodded, "I see…" As he leaned back into his chair, the psyker gave Orion another scrutinizing look, "I would be remiss in saying that while I have some misgivings on this development, it is pleasing to hear that the Khan of Khans has taken a vested interest in our detachment." Kuveer paused as he looked around at the meeting room, "Although only by so much."
Orion saw where this was going, "Yes…your deck claim has much to be desired. I imagine there have been issues?"
He expected a more diplomatic response, but this seemed to have been the wrong thing to say. For the first time, Kuveer's own officers started to voice their own opinions on their living situation. All the while, their Gemlord seemed content just to sit there and listen.
The Knight-Warden was used to bickering and complaining officers, but he wasn't exactly prepared for the barrage of complaints and reality checks. The sad truth was that the Buzhouians were holding on, but considering millions of their people were still just trying to find safe sections. There were many reports; everything from gas leaks and power outages to targeted harassment and even a few attacks by ship personnel or members of another regiment.
After about twenty minutes of this, Orion finally got the scope of how inconvenient the Deck Claim for the Buzhouians was and that it likely wasn't going to improve. As Orion noticed that Kuveer remained silent, it was clear now that the Gemlord was more invested in letting his officers air their grievances. Which made Orion suspect that Kuveer had his own qualms about this situation.
"I think the Captain has heard enough." Kuveer spoke loudly over the clamor of his officers, "In any case, this meeting wasn't about the situation with the so-called 'Deck Claim' given to our people."
Orion frowned at hearing that, 'As if you didn't plan on that being the focus of the meeting.' The Knight-Warden thought to himself, recognizing that Kuveer did all of this intentionally.
"Return to your posts," Kuveer spoke up to his officers, "I shall speak with the Captain in private before returning with further instructions." His officers didn't even nod or respond. Instead, they all wordlessly stood, saluted Kuveer, and swiftly exited the room. All in less than a minute.
There was a brief moment of silence shared between the two. Kuveer slowly tapped his right hand on the table, looking expectantly at Orion. Instead, the Knight-Warden glared a moment at the psyker before speaking.
"I was more than aware of the situation your detachment faces in this…living situation."
Kuveer responded with only a small "Hmm…" He knew that Orion wasn't the type to come down here wholly ignorant of their situation. However, the Gemlord wasn't so easily swayed by just a simple face-to-face meeting.
"I'm sure you have the best of intentions," Kuveer spoke up, finally. "And the Khan of Khans does honor us by sending us one of his best fighters, even if a foreign one." Again, the Buzhouians had a strange hang-up on foreigners.
"But even so," Kuveer continued, "Our reality doesn't exactly give us much hope or confidence for our long-term survival." He gestured around the mess room turned meeting room, "It's not the broken or grime-covered walls that frustrate us. So many of my soldiers grew up in poverty. I grew up poor before the State picked me up. Even then, I spent most of my life in what could generously be called a barracks of sorts."
He leaned forward and looked Orion in the eyes, "No. What frustrates my people is that we will not be able to perform effectively if we are unable to meet even the most basic living conditions."
Orion understood their plight. However, he wasn't swayed, "You aren't the only ones having to deal with a bad Deck Claim. More importantly, if you are unable to operate effectively in peacetime, then you shall not survive when it comes time for war." There was a point where Orion was sympathetic and another where he wouldn't mince his words.
The Gemlord seemed to take offense to that, "My forces are more than prepared for battle. We are a capable and elite unit."
"The Warhawk seems to agree with that assessment, notwithstanding how your forces were completely routed." Orion didn't feel any remorse for driving that particular point home.
Now Kuveer seemed quite angry, "My forces were-"
"Completely out skilled, outmatched, and out-coordinated." Orion interjected with some force in his tone, "And there is no shame in that. You went up against perhaps the most skilled field commander in maneuver and tactical warfare in the entire galaxy. But while there is no shame, it does not indicate that your forces are deserving of being accommodated with better living conditions…at least not without someone vouching for you."
If Orion's words had any effect on Kuveer's temperament, he didn't see it. That said, the psyker didn't argue any further. He seemed to have picked up what Orion was going for now. "Am I to believe you would vouch for us?"
"If we are going to work together, yes." Orion nodded once, "I have no qualms over using my influence to assist you in such matters." Skullface had taught Orion just how easy it was to get any man to agree to a deal, especially if it was legitimately in their favor.
Kuveer certainly looked interested, although he didn't exactly jump at the chance, "Then what can you do? And what do you expect from us?"
"Cooperation." Orion remarked succinctly, "We shall be put into hellfire and more in the coming years. It would be best to ensure that we can work together, lest we end up in a Tsagaan Sar. To that end, I do believe the upcoming Naadaam would be a good proving grounds for this new friendship." He paused for a moment, "You are aware of those practices, correct?"
"Vaguely." Kuveer shrugged, "We've been busy down here, but I've learned enough from my agents." The Buzhouians were sending out spies? Orion would make sure not to mention that part to the Khan. "I have no desire to shame myself or my people in any event, be it in peacetime or war. The Undying Spirit forbids dishonor or weak spirits." Orion had to respect that he at least was spirited.
"Then let us seek to aid each other." Orion was happy to see this going in a positive direction. "I should have enough sway to get your detachment moved to a better deck."
Rather than a nod or look of relief, Kuveer instead looked pensive, "And how will you go about finding our replacement?"
"I will find some regiment that is without merits or honor and send them down here. That should free up enough space to send your forces up to a better deck in the meanwhile." A relatively simple but effective solution.
So Orion was quite surprised when Kuveer shook his head, "I'm sorry, but I cannot accept that."
"What?" Orion couldn't understand where this was coming from, "Why would you not want to take this offer?!"
Kuveer sighed, "We do not wish to burden those that live on Echo-02, or the other sections, with having to deal with criminals or those without honor. The people on the sections suffer in these living conditions just as we are now. To that end, we do not wish to increase their burdens."
"With respect, you don't owe these people anything." Orion quickly recalled the sergeant willing to call men like Kuveer a Freaker. "Their lives were already terrible; you coming or going will not change that."
"Perhaps." Kuveer nodded, "Yet our people were raised to believe that individuals had a responsibility and purpose towards the greater good of society. This was made crucial for those with prismatic souls, for our power meant we could do the most good. Even if people feared or hated us, we are servants of the people."
The Gemlord leaned back into his chair, "We are now Imperials, which means all those who live under our protection via the Deck Claim are our people. Our duty to them remains the same even if they never appreciate or accept us."
Orion could stare at how Kuveer refused to take an easy solution if it meant causing problems for complete strangers. It was almost respectable. Indeed, a few of the Primarchs would applaud such determination for various reasons; loyalty to order, to their community, or their fellow man.
However, Orion wasn't here to entertain such lofty ideals.
The Knight-Warden considered his options. Kuveer didn't want the replacement group to be an awful one. Very well, that simply meant that Orion had to get soldiers that had a modicum of respect and restraint and get them to take on the Buzhouians Deck Claims.
He might as well ask a Space Wolf not to drink or a Salamander to use a fire weapon! No sane man would give up their creature comforts for a significantly worse environment. You'd have to be a fool to take it. The only thing worse would be having to stay on a battlefield…
'That's it!' Orion had a solution brewing in his mind. "If it matters that much, that I shall get a replacement regiment that will not cause problems for the locals and do so willingly at that."
Kuveer raised a solitary eyebrow at that, "I must admit…I am curious at how you will be able to pull that off."
"I will need to speak with the Warhawk…but it should be more than possible once I create the proper incentive." The Knight-Warden stood up from his seat, "To that end, if this is the only thing holding back your cooperation, then I shall endeavor to resolve it right away. Have your people ready to move within the next few weeks."
While Kuveer wasn't entirely convinced, Orion could sense the man was hopeful at whatever the space marine was trying to pull off. "My people will need to spend the next few days reviewing what will have to happen for the move once we receive further instructions, but I do believe they will be highly motivated to do so."
"Good." Orion was ready to leave this cesspit, "I shall send word once something is set in stone. After that, we can begin to actually address what will be necessary to make this cooperation of ours work."
The Gemlord nodded once more, "I must thank you for your…enthusiasm in trying to help my people while fitting within my request." He gave the barest of smiles now, "I can see why so many of the Astartes around this fleet speak highly of you."
Orion, however, frowned at hearing those words, "You best temper your expectations of me. Just as you are an adherent to your Undying Spirit, I am as well to the principles of my Legion. Let me make it clear to you that I expect you to follow my commands. And for you understand that while your forces are under my command, we will be venturing into the most dangerous of warzones and facing foes that your world has never encountered before."
Yet Kuveer did not seem deterred, "I understand. All of us were raised to believe that our lives were not worth the survival of the State. To that end, we Buzhouians understand that a noble and honorable sacrifice is preferable to a pitiful existence when the time comes. You shall find no cravens among our numbers."
Orion had heard those words from men and officers before. No one knew what fear was until they stood before a daemon or one of the ancient horrors of this galaxy. Skullface had shown Orion just how easy it was to break a man, and after the horrific battles on RP-28, when Imperial fought against Imperial, Orion had grown distrustful of most men claiming a lack of fear.
Yet perhaps Kuveer and the Buzhouians were different. While a trillion may falter, Orion needed only a hundred thousand brave souls to follow him to ensure victory. Time will tell how this Gemlord and his men fare now.
"We shall see."
Their meeting concluded with those words.
---
Orion's solution was relatively straightforward when he explained it to the Warhawk and Jubal. What was worse for a soldier: Living in squalor or in a warzone? A strange question, but one that had a pair of answers.
A fresh regiment, wholly inexperienced and unaware of the rigors of war, would naturally assume that most battles would either be quick affairs, especially with Astarte's support or would turn into a drawn-out conflict. They would think that they would have time to rest and regain their bearings in either case.
However, all those within the White Scars knew better, as did Orion. Once the expedition began, there would be no stopping. It would be exhausting for the uninitiated, and even the experienced would find themselves drained. Yet to that end, it still wouldn't make sense for any commander to give up their Deck Claim in that instance. Not unless they were offered something in exchange.
A prize worthy of living in the muck for who knows how long.
Thus Orion came up with an offer that most would take if given a chance: Take a lousy Deck Claim in exchange for rear echelon duty. When the Primarch heard the suggestion, he laughed, but he took a moment to consider it. The Warhawk readily recognized just how endemic and problematic Deck Claims had become in the Imperium these days, and while this solution was only applicable in certain instances, it can easily work.
To that end, Orion offered another suggestion to the Khan. Namely, the possibility of a lottery system for good Deck Claims. The logic there was built upon the idea that the White Scars could claim one of the nicer decks, hold it, and then via a lottery system, a regiment could be lucky to snag it for themselves.
No doubt that would annoy or even anger certain commanders, but it would give an illusion of the Primarch attempting to address the issues of Deck Claims further, rather than just a series of one-off deals.
All of this would need a bit more refinement, but the Warhawk granted Orion permission to seek out a regiment that fit the criteria that Kuveer was looking for and was willing to take rear echelon duties.
It took Orion only a few hours to get a dozen requests. By the end of the day, he had almost a hundred regiments willing to trade with the Buzhouians if it meant not taking active combat assignments. When Orion reported this development to the Warhawk, he became very dismayed at just how many men and women wanted to stay out of combat, also quite interested at how popular this had become in only a single day.
To that end, Orion was thanked by the Primarch for taking the initiative and resolving any possible command issues with the Buzhouians. And the Primarch even rewarded him, albeit in the strangest way possible.
He informed the Primarch of what was to come. An event that the Warhawk had only recently advised his captains and stormseers of was that a great tournament would be had to commemorate the legion's victory in the Ritual War and bless their expedition into the unknown. The Primarch remarked that Orion would be taking part in an event as an honored guess.
The Dain Naadam; the War Games.
---
@Daemon Hunter Okay, finally done with this one. I sort of just started trailing off because I really wanted to finish this omake.
Heart of Gemstone
It had been over six months since Orion had been attached to the White Scars. He'd like to say it was a relatively typical period, during which he got used to the nuances and idiosyncrasies of such an atypical Legion. Yet he should've known better after his experience in the Steppes of Azim. The White Scars were not like the Wardens or Dark Angel's discipline or formality. That wasn't to say the Riders eschewed such things; instead, their focus was towards other aspects of camaraderie.
One could perhaps describe it as being a bit more "lenient" towards individual squads; each squad was free to follow their training and procedures. There wasn't a controlled system of practices within the White Scars, at least not in the conventional sense. There were still drills, live-fire exercises, and in-class instruction, but those were to see if Astartes were keeping up with their basic skills.
Improvements were up to the squads themselves. A captain, or a noyan-khan, could order a general focus towards those in their company, but sergeants had to guide or command their troops towards what they had to do and then let them decide how to accomplish it. Utter chaos compared to the Dark Angel's training, yet Orion had seen the success rate reports to prove it.
Unfortunately, Orion realized that only the White Scars could pull off due to their nature as a Legion and how the Khan structured it. He would never see the Iron Warriors, Iron Hands, Dark Angels, or even the Wardens allow for this much freedom for each Astartes. However, it was still extraordinary to watch in practice. The training tended to cause individuals in each squad to gravitate towards one another in hopes of accomplishing their assigned tasks. In doing so, squad cohesion improved immensely. The situation changed on a company level, or as the White Scars called them, "Hordes," though
One veteran sergeant explained to Orion that it was for several reasons, such as when a noyan-khan needs to involve the entire horde in some activity. After that, things got a bit more complicated via two other scenarios. The first was that they were preparing for a Naadam, a ceremonial battle between the hordes that had recently gained significant honors in battle. Although the White Scars called them "Games" of all things. To participate in a Naadam, you had to have scored at least five kills against a worthy foe and offered a tribute to the spirits.
The second instance was that someone within the horde (or sometimes even the entire horde) had committed a grave mistake or dishonor upon themselves, the Legion, or even the Khan himself. To that end, this horde prepared for a Tsagaan Sar, a Battle Redemption. It was considered a last-ditch effort for this stain on their honor. It had to be cleansed before the spirits of Chogoris and their Primarch in battle.
When you participated in Tsagaan Sar, it was a fight for survival. You had to face off against a champion of the Legion. One who the Primarch or First Captain handpicked. And for those that genuinely wished to cleanse themselves of their dishonor, they can elect to fight the First Captain or the Khan himself. All they had to do in that instance was survive for one minute in one-on-one combat.
No one ever picked the latter option. Thankfully, it was infrequent for a Tsagaan Sar to be called, especially during compliance. The Khan forgave inevitable failures or reevaluated the company's capabilities. Just because the Warhawk did not abide weakness did not mean he was without mercy or understanding towards his son's failures and faults. At least, to a certain extent anyway. Yet Orion had yet to hear of any situation. His warden brothers were adjusting to the strange training regime well enough. Yet Orion hadn't been placed in command of a squad of his own.
No, the Warhawk had other designs for the Knight-Warden.
For starters, Ramuh was now Orion's pet project. That wasn't to say that Orion was providing instruction on the ways of being a psyker. Not only was he utterly unqualified for such a thing, but the Stormseers also guarded such practices. Instead, the Warhawk wanted Orion to instruct Ramuh on the nature of the Great Enemy. Better to train the Stormherald on such matters and better steel himself from such corruption. Per the instructions of the Khan, he wanted Ramuh to act as a sort-of apprentice to Orion during the exchange. Furthermore, he would be the Knight-Warden's back-up during any high-end missions.
To Orion, it appeared that the Warhawk was interested in him training a highly effective strike force at the squad level. The idea certainly had merit. However, Orion started noticing a trend of aspirants and students being sent his way. Like Ramuh, most of his "recruits" had untapped potential and a few complications. The Knight-Warden was sure that the Khan was intentionally sending him such individuals, but whether it was a test or an actual desire for Orion to see their improvement was lost on him.
Nevertheless, Orion hadn't thought much of it. His Legion had an assortment of characters and personalities that would've been deemed "problematic" by the likes of the Dark Angels or the Imperial Fists, but divergence from what was considered "normal" among Astartes did not indicate a lack of skill or capability. Kesar had once told his sergeants and captains that there was no such thing as an incompetent marine, only an underutilized or unchallenged one. Although, he also warned that some individuals had more difficult dispositions regarding leadership or command.
Yet even the most stringent Legions knew that a soldier's true colors would appear when it came a time for battle. Human or Astarte, it didn't matter. Orion had long since learned that truth. And sometimes, those "true colors" were not positive qualities. Even so, as a leader, Orion would be expected to try his hardest to make every man or woman given to his command into something worthy of the Khan's arsenal.
If Orion was here to train would-be heroes for the White Scars, then so be it.
---
The next four months resulted in Orion seeing a limited amount of activity for the most part. He continued training Ramuh and the few others in his squad. Word spread around the fleet that the Warhawk was preparing for something big. Orion knew the truth, at least to a certain extent. The Khan was laying the foundation for his expedition into the farthest reaches of the wilds of space. When he was brought into these strategic planning sessions, the Primarch made it clear that their objective was to clear a path for future expeditions. Still, their primary objective was recon, observation, and elimination. The element of surprise was considered a critical factor regarding any possible enemies they encountered.
As such, training was paramount to keep the Astartes ready and able. Even if the general focus was on building FOBs and supply zones for the expedition, the Warhawk expected results from his sons. The Khan had high hopes in these expectations. Yet, even so, no one knew what the end goal was now. Even Yesugei and Jubal were in the dark of their gene-sires machinations.
Orion was convinced the Warhawk had something grandiose in the works. The Khan certainly enjoyed his own take on spectacles. Orion would be expected to participate in such events, no doubt. But Orion would only stay as long as expected of him. He was never fancied such festivities. Too many reminders of his previous life. The mire of tedium and trivialities of the nobility was always tiresome.
Regardless, a Legion was a brotherhood, which meant such activities were necessary for the confidence and morale of one's brothers. Besides, there was never anything tedious and trivial about Astartes gatherings. Even more so with the White Scars. They were unpredictable.
So Orion was not surprised when he received new instructions, directly from the Warhawk himself. He was to aid one of the Khan's unique assets. Another psyker of all things. A non-Astartes as well. The Warhawk told Orion that this Kuveer was recently obtained after a short compliance and folded into the White Scars auxiliary forces. Unfortunately, there were issues with getting Kuveer and his followers to obey commands or working alongside the other mortal elements within the White Scars.
"A stubborn bunch," He described to Orion, "The worst attribute of Roboute and Perturabos sons. Arrogance and logical certainty." What a lovely combination for a psyker. "However, there is a good soul nestled in that stone heart of his, one that I believe speaks volumes of his character. We need only find a means to bring it out. As such, I leave this riddle for you to resolve, Captain."
Orion held back his misgivings on this assignment. It wasn't his place to question the Primarch, especially over something benign as this mission. Still, the Knight-Warden felt apprehension, especially after reading the report on Kuveer and the highlighted points of the compliance.
The Knight-Warden then realized what he was about to undertake now.
---
Kuveer and his people hailed from the world of Buzhou. Such a world was described as an unpolished diamond. Uncut and flawed, but beautiful and strong. The makings of something desirable. Before the Imperium's arrival, Buzhou was entering a period of substantial industrial growth, its mineral wealth feeding industrial cities and nascent hives.
Most of the world was under the control of a governmental apparatus known simply as the "State." The State was a combination of military, oligarchs, and elder statesmen. This meant that for Buzhou, all its resources were dedicated to the State's preservation and development. People were most certainly included in that regard. Anyone who fits a particular niche or provides an exceptional service was deemed "essential" to the State.
Psykers significantly fell into that category.
To be born a psyker in Buzhou meant your life was already decided upon. Namely in service to the state and its people. No surprise then that Kuveer fell into that category. When Orion looked into his background, he learned that he was a special case.
He hadn't been found as a psyker. Instead, he had been pre-determined to be one years before his birth. Evidently, the last gamma diviner had learned of the geomancer's fate to the point of determining his parents. As such, Kuveers mother was taken to a secured facility. Kuveer had been born, raised, and trained within what could only be described as fortress-monasteries. Although Buzhou was not religious, they practiced a doctrine similar to the Golden Path known as the Undying Spirit.
From a glance, it was the standard focus of most nations: Order. Fraternity. Unity. Dedication. All of which circled back to adherence towards the State. No surprise then that Kuveer firmly believed in the Undying Spirit and was an adherent to the State.
Records of his early life and training were lost during the compliance. The capital of Buzhou was razed, although not by the White Scars, but rather the remaining leadership of the State. What was left painted a rather grim picture. Indications of gene therapy, intensive physical training, and a rigorous education resulted in Kuveer becoming an incredibly dangerous soldier at twelve years old.
At 16 years old, the State declared Kuveer as a Ruby Soul, their designation for what they likely thought to be the strongest psyker in existence. It was odd to imagine it, but Buzhou was a peaceful world. There wasn't much of a need for someone like Kuveer. However, the State needed to keep the people afraid and compliant. Thus Kuveer was made to be the people's champion while secretly being their warden.
The next twenty years saw Kuveer earn a rather dangerous reputation among the other psykers, the Buzhou military, and even the State leadership. He had gained considerable popularity and influence among the lower rank and file, other psykers, and ordinary citizens. Kuveer had gone from being their warden to their hero after using his powers of earth manipulation to find new sources of water fuel and even help create natural roads and freeways.
It seemed that before the White Scars' arrival, Kuveer was deemed a "detrimental political actor" after he started speaking out against certain practices, such as the lack of civil liberties under the State's rule. To his credit, Kuveer remained loyal until the very end, even when he had been "arrested" for seditious acts just weeks before the Imperium's arrival.
Naturally, when the Warhawk did arrive, the State was quick to make promises to Kuveer and his growing factions. If he could stop the invaders, then he'd be allowed to make some of the changes that he had spent years lobbying for. Even so, Kuveer was ready to defend Buzhou regardless.
Unfortunately for him, the Warhawk proved impossible to stop. No matter what Kuveer did, from using crystalized spears to attack ships in orbit, to rending the very land to stop landing zones, and even melting the steel treads of tanks…it wasn't enough to halt the Khan of Khans.
When Kuveer and his men surrendered, that was the end of the resistance on Buzhou. The State collapsed within only a few days as they turned on each other, hoping to be spared from the invader's fury or ready to serve them on a moment's whim. Orion later learned from Khan that the locals did more damage than anything the White Scars were expected to do.
Tragically, the brief civil war that followed resulted in the complete collapse of Buzhou. Thankfully, the Imperium of Man soon restored order to a more than compliant population. All that was left now was the fate of the psykers and Kuveer.
Ultimately, the Khan decided to spare them. Although, becoming part of the auxiliary force might have been more punishment than mercy. Most mortal psykers attached to the Legions tended to not last long. Trying to keep up with Astartes was never an easy task. One could only imagine what horrors and enemies they'd soon face. But such thoughts didn't matter now. They were now Orion's problem.
---
Orion was told that Kuveer and his men were at deck Echo-02, one of the fuel processing centers and ultimately a rather grimy and polluted location, but unfortunately, it was to be their home. Most of the crew didn't like psykers living near the hab-decks, nor did other regiments wish to share their own "claims" with their like.
As Orion made his way down to Echo-02, he had time to ponder the reasons that Kuveer and his people were forced down into such an awful location.
Perhaps one of the most reductive practices in the Imperial military was that of "Deck Claiming" while onboard a ship. No one knew how it actually started or how it became such a widespread and accepted procedure, but Orion figured it started early during the Great Crusade.
A Deck Claim, or claims, was as it sounded. A group from outside the ship would find either a single or multiple sections of a vessel, move to take control of it, and then "claim" it as their home away from home until they made planetfall. When Orion first heard of the practice, he attributed such practices to that of squatting on someone's land.
Unfortunately, it was a well-accepted practice. The Imperial Army and Armada did nothing to stop it. If anything, some commanders and officers encouraged the behavior because it, hopefully, resolved several problems in one go. As long as no one caused any trouble for the captain or admiral, mind you.
And everyone practiced it. There was even a hierarchy in place. Nobles, government officials, military commanders, esteemed dignitaries, and anyone who could command a ship, regiment, or company were put in the most comfortable and luxurious rooms on a vessel. They were far and away from the rest of the crew. More often, even their own soldiers or officers were deemed unworthy of such a reward.
After that, you have lower officers (Majors and Lt. Colonels), the personal body-guards or protection details, specialists, and other "important" officials like clerks, magistrates, or even tithe collectors. They stayed in what could be called the "Apartments" of a ship, which depending on whoever ran the vessel, could range from equally luxurious or "modest" to someone from a Hive World.
Then you had the tech-priests and their ilk. They stayed close to the most critical sections of the ship. No one bothered them. Not unless someone had to.
And then…there was everyone else. These were the lowest echelon of officers, minor scribes, and the rest of the ship's command staff. Ultimately, these people were instructed and required to find a place for hundreds of thousands, if not millions of troopers, to find room for the regiment's equipment, maintain discipline and order among them, and a hundred other minor problems that would inevitably crop up.
Imagining men and women, who barely had any training in company discipline or leadership experience on this scale, becoming the sole voice of authority and reason to what amounted to a flying city hurling through the stars was not an envious task.
Most did not try to imagine the organized chaos that followed on a ship with the arrival of millions of foreign soldiers. A ship's crew could either be entirely new to the vessel or perhaps have lived in it for generations. Regardless, they all shared a common thread. This ship was their home. And these newcomers were intruding on it, even if the captain gave them permission to board. And more often than not, these strangers were a sign of trouble, maybe even doom. For where else would an army be needed if not a warzone?
And the situation only became more tenuous and turbulent as the Imperial Army troops were told to "make themselves comfortable" for the long journey ahead of them. A long journey indeed. One bad warp storm could trap a ship inside the hellscape for years. Keeping that in mind, any soldier would seek to find a comfortable place to call his new home. Even if that meant taking someone else's.
Orion had long since learned that man is a creature that desires his comforts at any cost. He may try and prevent his urges from taking hold of him, but Orion knew better after the Ritual War. Men were weak. They hungered and craved and desired whatever they could get their hands on, especially when they learned that resupply could never arrive or they could simply die in transit.
Thus the Deck Claims.
All it took was one company of soldiers to arrive and stake a claim. After that, they would begin establishing what amounted to the base of operations and gathering. More often than not, their intentions were entirely professional and even altruistic. So many troopers would often help the crew with one problem or another, mingling with the local men and women, buying their goods, and paying for their selective services.
Those were, thankfully, quite common.
Unfortunately, not all men were so virtuous. There was all manner of horror or tragic story attached to an infamous instance of a Deck Claim. Murder or rape, a firefight or riot, unlawful activities such as gambling or underground fight clubs (to say nothing of the black markets that appeared on these vessels), or worse yet, intentionally kidnapping someone to sell to a slaver. Plenty of disappearances was often chalked up to mutants from the lower decks. Then again, perhaps those that disappeared were used for darker purposes.
The crews, of course, did what they could but were often powerless. Their Armsmen were outgunned and outmatched compared to the Imperial Troopers, let alone if there was a company of Black Brigades or Astartes onboard. The vessel captain might not even lift a finger to help his own crew…for replacements were relatively cheap.
Which, in turn, made the crew resentful and even vindictive. Many heard stories of the crews, finally either fed up or seeking revenge, would use their knowledge of their own homes against the troopers. Entire decks become devoid of clean air "overnight" or a fire breaking out or perhaps even the spread of a dangerous fungus or plague. Like all things, the worst case was a fight breaking out among the ship. Thankfully, those were incredibly rare.
Yet he wondered how many small wars took place across a single battlefleet without anyone noticing them? For indeed, as long as it didn't hamper either the ship or the regiments fighting effectiveness…well, perhaps a few commanders thought it an effective means to "blood" the new recruits or keep the soldiers and crew focused on each other, not those who were in charge.
As Orion finally entered Echo-02, he considered how everyone ultimately contributed to this situation from the very top to the bottom. It made him think of another part of this conundrum. The unseen elements, those hated or feared by both sides.
Psykers, abhumans, and the unwanted.
Strange as it was to say, though, psykers and abhumans were often not the victims of direct physical attacks. Undoubtedly, even the most spite-fueled individual was aware that a psyker going mad could doom an entire section of a ship. Abhumans, while not as destructive, tended to be unpredictable. An Ogryn backed into a corner is a most ferocious fighter, and Ratlings tended to revenge in ways that could never be traced back to them.
So instead, they were made targets of ridicule scorn and simply denied services or exiled into the worst parts of the ship. Case in point, Kuveer and his men being in Echo-02. Yet their situation was made all the worse due to their circumstances that led them to become part of the White Scar's auxiliary force.
They were not Imperials, nor did they willingly serve the Imperium in the eyes of others on board the ship. They were prisoners turned into a penal company, surviving only by the grace and mercy of the Warhawk and because of their abilities. A valuable group of tools, but not men in the eyes of others and not yet proven either.
How amusing it was to Orion, which brought both the crew and troopers together, was paranoia and fear towards another group. It idly made Orion wonder if such instances could be applied towards the Astartes, albeit for vastly different reasons?
After what had happened in the Ritual War, it wouldn't surprise him if most mortal humans would ultimately come to fear the Astartes in due time. It made Orion appreciate the effort that Skullface put towards keeping the Knight-Wardens reputation intact, even after all that Orion did to ensure victory on RP-29.
Pushing such thoughts aside, Orion now had to focus on what was before him and not what had already or might come to pass.
---
Orion ran into a checkpoint, staffed by armsmen from the local brigade, no doubt. There were less than a dozen of them, and none were paying attention to anyone coming or going. Such a lackadaisical attitude for their duty. Most played cards, talked, or drank what Orion suspected to be locally brewed rotgut.
Once the officer in charge, a sergeant of some kind, noticed him, suddenly he whipped everyone into shape as if Orion hadn't seen them not doing their jobs and saluted.
"Oi, officer on deck!" He barked out to his men, "Welcome to the Grunge, Lord Astartes!"
The Knight-Warden barely paid attention to the sergeant, although what he just said sparked a bit of interest, "The Grunge?"
"Err, that is what we call this section of the fuel storage and refinement." The sergeant helpfully clarified. "Anyway, what can we help you with, sir?" At the very least, the man wasn't trying to waste Orion's time.
"I'm looking for the Buzhou detachment; they are supposed to be down here."
Now the sergeant looked confused for a moment before realization hit him, "You mean the freakers and their followers?" He quickly nodded and gestured towards one of the nearby troops, "Yeah, the freakers are about nine or so minutes from this checkpoint. Ya gotta just go down two levels on the first lift, stop on the third, and then head straight past refinement zone green. Can't miss their camp then."
Orion wondered what life must be like for a psyker if casual slurs were directed daily towards them. Indeed, no one would be calling one of the Psyker-Astartes a "freaker," even if only among their compatriots.
No matter, Orion wasn't here to speculate on that, "Right." He proceeded to continue on his journey.
The sergeant was most certainly surprised at the flagrant dismissal but still tried to offer some assistance, "I can give you one of my boys to guide you down there; it'll be a lot faster."
Orion didn't bother looking back as he spoke, "No, thank you." He needed to consider what he would now say to Kuveer and his men to make the psyker trust him. Orion did not need a random crewmember to suddenly call one of the warp-users a "freaker" out of the blue. He didn't want this task to get any more complicated than it had to.
His brief journey leads Orion through a series of halls and lifts, across grime and caked-on filth. While not anywhere near the dirtiest or disgusting places, it reminded the Knight-Warden of a few slums within an Underhive. After everything in the Ritual War, Orion hated the unclean in all its forms. Yet so much of the Imperium's population lived in such conditions. Perhaps many of the troopers, recruited from the vast multitudes of planetary people, decided that they weren't going to be packed in such living conditions once again, or if they were, things would be different than back home.
Thus these blasted Deck Claims. Somehow the Imperial Army was intentionally recreating the same mistakes that plagued so many worlds. But that was just the nature of it. Mayhaps it was just human nature, period. Cramped inside, even the greatest vessels of the Imperium could drive even the most stalwart of void-born into performing unsavory acts. It shouldn't have surprised anyone when faced with such meager living conditions.
Orion had to go only a few more minutes before he came across yet another checkpoint, but this time controlled by the group the Knight-Warden sought. He saw that they were wearing what looked to be the uniform of the Imperial Army, although Orion could see red and gold cloth armbands on their right biceps, which was no doubt used to distinguish them from anyone else in uniform. There were at least nine soldiers carrying las-carbines and wearing flak armor.
It was easy to tell that the troopers were on alert, for they also seemed to have noticed Orion at least a dozen meters out, rather than the last checkpoint that barely saw him until he was right in their faces.
"Halt." One of the troopers called out from behind an impromptu barrier made of metal crates and pallets. "This area is restricted to anyone that isn't a lieutenant or above or without orders from Colonel Robrin."
As a courtesy, Orion did stop a few meters away. "I am Captain Orion Jesk of the Eternal Wardens." He rumbled with the same tone he used that caused even the Black Brigades to stand at attention, "I seek passage through towards Echo-02 to speak with the one known as Kuveer."
Rather than respond in awe or fear, Orion could see the troopers growing tense, and one of them quickly ran over to get something. "As you say, Captain Jesk. Stand-by while I confirm with the Gemlord."
"You have one minute." Orion responded, much to the speaker's surprise, "After that, I will continue forward with or without your approval." He was an Astartes officer on a mission, and he was not required to adhere to polite procedures when they were wasting his time.
Besides, Orion wanted to see firsthand how the Buzhouians reacted under pressure.
To their credit, the conversation that took place over vox lasted precisely 52 seconds before the trooper in charge spoke up, "Captain Jesk, permission has been granted for you to proceed forward." The soldiers didn't even need further instructions before they started to break down the barricade in record time.
The trooper approached Orion and saluted, "I am Corporal Chao; let me be the first to welcome you to Echo-02, Captain." Orion gave the barest of nods before he started back on his journey. To his confusion, Corporal Chao started to follow him.
"I've been instructed to escort you to the Gemlord."
Orion knew what was happening here, "Not needed."
"Sir, it would be faster if you-"
Orion cut him off, "It would be faster, but it would not allow me to get an effective grasp on the situation here in Echo-02. You are free to tag along and provide me context, but otherwise, I will take the long way towards seeing your Gemlord."
The human struggled to come up with an argument but finally nodded in acceptance. It wasn't like he could attempt to disobey the order. Soon enough, Chao followed behind the Knight-Warden. That was good enough for Orion.
---
Orion had been informed about the technical details of the Buzhou detachment before coming to Echo-02. They were officially a light infantry regiment, although, on paper, anyone could see that they were more a support unit for the psykers that made up their detachment. Not that the Imperial Army would publically claim that such auxiliary regiments existed.
The logic was simple there. Most worlds hated psykers. So if any newcomer world heard about dedicated companies or regiments that supported the usage of psykers, they'd feel disinclined to work with the Imperium. After they joined the Imperium, such worlds would slowly learn the truth. Even then, it was only a bitter pill to swallow. Psyker support regiments or companies were such a nebulous concept among the Imperial Army, namely because they rarely took shape in any capacity.
There were only 192 official deployments of such groups among the Imperial Army in practice. To put that into a numbers perspective, they made up 0.00009% of the standing military force that the Imperium of Man could field.
Skullface told Orion that it was child's play for the Imperial Army, or more specifically the Departmento Munitorum, to hide these groups in plain sight. They were never called "Psyker Regiments or Companies" and instead given labels like "Special Activities Group" or "Esoteric Tactics and Personnel Companies" or whatever double-speak or word game the commander in charge liked to use. The same tactic, Skullface explained, that such officers used to hide illicit purchases, such as drugs, liquor, or specific services while on the military's payroll.
Every time Orion looked into the inner workings of the Imperium, he found something that needed to be changed from the ground up. Too bad, though, that wasn't his purpose in life now.
In any case, the Buzhou detachment was perhaps one of the most significant outliers among the Imperial Army, namely because they were only functionally part of it due to being attached to the White Scars. That was another instance of power and influence the Primarchs just had over the Imperium's military institutions. They could just decide to make their own regiments. If the Imperial Army would pay for such a group. Such instances were constantly questioned, especially with the Tyrant of Terra cracking down on those instances.
Then again, maybe the Warhawk didn't care if the Buzhouians were paid for their services. They had been spared death, which might have been payment enough for many. Unfortunately for the Buzhouians, resupply came courtesy of the White Scars and not the Departmento Munitorum. Orion didn't expect the Khan to be restrictive, but the Warden also knew that the Warhawk only showered those that showed promise.
None could deny that Jaghatai Khan rewarded those with merit. Unfortunately, one had to also impress the Primarch with their actions in battle. So until that point, groups like the Buzhouians were on their own and had to make do.
As Orion finally got a good feel at their situation, he was pleasantly surprised to see that they had, in fact, made due. Although Echo-02 smelled of oil, grime, and promethium, the atmosphere itself tasted stale. Even so, there was the smell of industry and human activity hanging in the air.
The first thing that Orion saw was a veritable host of Buzhouians moving resources and attempting to clean up a section of Echo-02 with water scrubbers and industrial-grade bleach. Everything about this blasted deck was dirty, but Orion could tell that it likely had been far worse before the arrival of the Buzhouians.
Corporal Chao rattled off some information to Orion: How there were at least several million cramped into Echo-02, Beta-19, and Gamma-10. It was this deck in particular that the Gemlord was commanding his detachment. No matter how many times Orion considered the logistical nightmare of housing billions of individuals across an entire fleet, he always remembered that those numbers would dwindle soon enough.
When Orion heard the supply situation, he wasn't as surprised there. Undoubtedly, the Buzhouians received only the bare minimum from the Imperium and instead had to procure resources independently. The Knight-Warden could easily see that most of the materials and equipment used by the Buzhouians were not standard Imperial make. That would change once their initial equipment pool started to run out.
As he and Chao passed through the cramped corridors, more Buzhouians paused in their work or stopped what they were doing to stare at the "intruder" on "their" deck. Orion could tell most of them looked to be either very young or old and rarely did he see anyone considered "middle-age" by human standards.
Evidently, the Buzhouians decided that any volunteers had nothing to lose or gain fighting amongst the stars. Either that or everyone here decided to follow Kuveer into the void, and willingly at that.
He noticed that each individual Buzhouian had what looked to be jewelry on their person. That was quite the odd sight. Orion could quickly tell that they were even gemstones, albeit of low quality.
"Explain the ornamentation on your troop's uniforms." Orion suddenly inquired to Chao.
Chao was surprised at the question but quickly answered, "We Buzhouians are accomplished, gold and silversmiths! Lord Kuveer himself is considered an artisan on our world, although only a master he has created a few beautiful works of art!" The man sounded proud of their leader's accomplishment. "Give us gold, silver, jade, gems, whatever metal or precious stone you can think of, and we can turn it into a work of art."
That was interesting to know. "I imagine this is how your forces will attempt to barter or pay for more goods and services." A regiment with no skills or trades to offer was doomed to banditry or collapse. Tragically, most were uneducated or untrained. Another flaw that humanity continued to propagate across the galaxy.
"You are correct, Lord Captain." Chao nodded once more, "However, we are careful to not show off or flaunt our completed goods, lest we become targets of greed or malicious individuals." Which explained why those troopers at the checkpoint that Orion encountered weren't wearing any such trinkets or ornamentation.
The pair continued their journey through Echo-02. Orion could now see the full scope of the Buzhouians and concluded that while they were soldiering through, it wouldn't last. Echo-02 was no better than a slum, yet perhaps barely above an underhive hab-block. It was one thing to survive in an enemy warzone; as Orion learned from his time on Aquisgranum, it was another to spend an entire campaign in such conditions.
Resources would start to be rationed, less they run out. Patience and restraint would begin to fray, and then camp discipline would start to weaken. Not every Buzhouian would adhere to discipline or have altruistic values, and if other regiments started fights with them for being considered a penal regiment, they would soon begin to see only enemies around them, either to kill or exploit.
"Where is Kuveer?" Orion had seen enough; it was time to focus on why he was here in the first place.
Chao pointed in what Orion assumed to be the "southern" direction, "This way, Lord-Captain. He and the other officers made a command center in what we believe to be an old overseer office." The corporal seemed to sense Orion's apprehension.
Now on their way once more, Orion considered what he might have to do in this situation to gain the Gemlords trust. As he took another brief look around at the living conditions, he saw grim faces on Buzhouians officers and subordinates alike. They would put on a brave face, but right now, it wasn't bravery they needed but discipline and hope in the midst of their situation. If they were to break here, they would most certainly not last for too long on a battlefield.
---
The overseer's office wasn't much at first glance, although Orion could tell it was spacious and large enough to hold perhaps a hundred people. Instead, as soon as Orion and Chao were allowed to pass through the sentries, the Knight-Warden saw a veritable host of cogitator banks and cooling systems. Each was arranged in a similar pattern of layered sections, designed to maximize available space.
Orion was confused when he saw what looked to be wind chimes hanging above the ceilings, all made of silver and gold. There was also the smell of incense, although that might have to cover up the smells of human sweat and the lingering scent of promethium.
A small coterie of officers moved about and paused when they spotted Orion enter their HQ. So far, though, the Knight-Warden hadn't located Kuveer. One of the officers, an older woman with grey hair, approached Orion within a few seconds.
"Captain Jesk." She greeted and nodded to the Astartes, "Welcome to our humble command center. I greet you in the name of the Gemlord. I am Marshal Liqin, although I suppose the Imperial Army has granted me the title of 'Colonel' in place of that."
Orion didn't respond as he kept looking for said Gemlord, "And where is your vaunted lord of gems? I wish to speak with him on matters of your detachment." If they were expecting him to wait, they would be sorely mistaken in the next few moments, "Bring him out, please."
Colonel Liqin looked a bit conflicted as she spoke up, "Begging pardon, Captain, but the Gemlord is finishing his meditation. He shall be out in just a few minutes."
As the Knight-Warden stared down at the Colonel, he was about ready to say that he had the next thirty seconds to stand before him…but Orion found just the tiniest bit of patience. Getting angry would help no one in these initial talks, especially not him.
"Very well." Orion crossed his arms, "I shall wait a few more minutes."
The Buzhouians seemed relieved that Orion wasn't going to be making this into an issue, which annoyed the Astartes quite a bit. He was polite and respectful, but Orion expected more professionalism from the Gemstone. He must have known that Orion was coming, yet he wasn't here to greet him?
Colonel Liqin briefly excused herself to focus on something else. This gave Orion time to consider this situation and turn to his "expert" on the matter, "This meditation," Orion looked back over at Chao, who had been silent as a mouse this entire time, who perked up, "Explain it."
"Err, yes!" Chao cleared his throat, "The Undying Spirit requires all warp-users to spend at least an hour, every morning and evening to be exact, in meditation. Due to their dangerous nature, they must remain in control of themselves at all times. Most often, a psyker would be required to take a special tonic that would allow them to enter into a waking dream."
A "waking dream"? Divination-related, perhaps? "And this is necessary for control of their powers?"
"Not necessary, but helpful." Chao clarified, "It allows for them to center themselves, to embrace the unknown, or so we are told. No one knows what the State told or taught them, even after the Imperium brought us into the fold. It doesn't matter now. Such practices will so soon fade into myth and legend."
How a man like Chao knew of such things interested Orion. "Are all within your detachment familiar with the practices and teachings of psykers from your world?"
"The Gemlord and his adherent told us as much," Chao remarked tersely, "We must be aware of their shortcomings and the necessities of what they go through to control their powers. The Undying Spirit teaches us that all humans, from the greatest prismatic souls to the weakest stonehearts, are capable of great achievements and equally great failings. It is why the State existed in the first place, to provide the necessary guidance and foundation to prevent civilization from collapsing like in the Old Collapse. Those same principles apply to those that can manipulate the warp."
Orion would need to do a bit more research on this Undying Spirit and the general history of Buzhou. Their way of life was peculiar but not strange or even uncommon compared to other cultures in the Imperium.
However, before Orion could ask another question to Chao, the corporeal noticed something and instantly stood at attention. Orion glanced over to see a newcomer enter the command center; The Gemlord Kuveer. As the Knight-Warden had already seen a picture of Kuveer, it wasn't too much of a surprise. Although, the picture didn't do the psyker justice.
Kuveer looked the part of a professional soldier but also had an aura of regalness, although he looked less like a king, more like if you gave an Astartes of the Emperor's Children the mannerisms of an Imperial Fist. Kuveer clearly believed in maintaining a grooming standard. His long ebony hair was well kept (if lengthier than Army regulations allowed), a pair of stern, shining amber-colored eyes glanced back at Orion, and while Kuveer was a bit smaller than most, he stood tall and proud before the Astartes.
'How fitting,' Orion thought to himself, 'A gemstone. Strong yet elegant.' Even his uniform reflected this, albeit it was heavily modified. The strangest thing was the number of metal ornaments on it. Orion could see everything from silver and gold to steel and iron, arranged in ways that seemed more than just him showing off.
It was almost like they were tools, or weapons, that were within reach. Orion knew that Kuveer could powerfully control metals but to the degree of using anything metallic? Did that apply to alloys as well?
Trailing behind Kuveer were what appeared to be some of his followers. A trio of what Orion initially thought to be officers, but he saw they took had an assortment of metallic objects on their person that wasn't just ornaments or trinkets. Some of his psykers, it seemed.
The mortal officers in the command center saluted Kuveer, yet Orion suspected there was also an urge to bow before the gamma. Perhaps Gemlord wasn't just a title, but a rank as well? No, that didn't fit the Buzhou utilitarianism born of the State's machination.
"Captain Jesk." Kuveer spoke with a tone that barely hid his annoyance at seeing the Astartes, "Your arrival was unexpected and required me clearing up my schedule at the last moment; nevertheless, we are honored to be visited by the so-called Angel of Humility."
Orion felt his eye twitch at hearing that blasted title again. Who the hell was spreading that blasted name around across the fleet? He shuddered to think that all the Legions would learn of it when this expedition concluded.
"Command Kuveer," Orion started with a voice that did not belay his intentions for being here, "Or do you prefer Gemlord?"
Kuveer shrugged, "Use whatever title fits your liking," Now the man was giving Orion a slight glare, "It is not like I can say or do anything otherwise." The Knight-Warden could tell that this was off to a "great" start.
"Now then," Kuveer spoke up once more, "To what do I owe this pleasure? Has the Khan of Khans sought fit to assign my detachment for active duty? I would be remiss in saying that my kin and I have been a little cooped up these last few months." He was eager that much Orion could determine from his tone now.
"Yes and no." Orion decided that this was going to be a somewhat awkward conversation, "There are currently no combat orders just yet. However, the Primarch has decided that your detachment shall be placed under my command until further notice."
That seemed to confuse the Buzhouians, "Your command?" Kuveer quietly inquired with trepidation, "With respect, Captain. It was not you that brought my world, forces, and myself to compliance. I would have thought the Primarch would at least have the courtesy to place me under the command of one of his own and not a…foreigner."
Foreigner? "While I do not have the blood of the White Scars, it is by virtue of my gene-sire and his connection to the Warhawk through the Emperor of Mankind…technically I am a nephew to the Khan." The blood ties among Astartes and Primarchs were an odd debate among scholars and marines alike.
"Hmm…distant family then." Kuveer looked surprised at this development, "Very well. Not that it matters in the end. Orders are orders, regardless of blood ties." He was quick to change his stance on the matter. Rare was it for Orion to even encounter such an issue of him being a "foreigner" to someone else once they were brought into the greater Imperium.
No matter now, "Then perhaps we can discuss this situation a bit further?" Orion looked around at the overseer's office, "Is there perhaps a strategic meeting room here?"
Kuveer snorted while his followers and officers grimaced, "As much as Echo-02 will allow. There is an old dining hall that has been converted; we can converse there, I suppose." Ah, there was that bitterness again.
"Good." It wouldn't be the worst place to hold a meeting, "I'm sure we have much to speak about."
---
The meeting room felt cramped, even though it probably could hold a hundred people in it. However, Kuveer had decided to fill it with plenty of cogitators banks and a long metal table with an integrated series of holo-projectors. How he found the money or resources or even a tech-priest to put all this in was a mystery.
Orion kept those questions to himself. Thank the Stars; he wasn't in power armor, so he didn't have to awkwardly stand around and instead found an oversized chair to sit in. Although, Orion still felt a bit out of place. He was a head taller than any Buzhouian in the room.
Aside from that, the group was relatively "comfortable," at least enough to start their discussion. For the most part, Orion was succinct and curt in addressing why he was here, the decisions made by the Warhawk, and what was to be expected going forward.
Kuveer and his men were now tangentially placed under Orion's command, but they still reported directly to the Khan or Jubal. To that end, the Knight-Warden was expected to help them "ease" into their new roles as an auxiliary support group within the White Scars. Additionally, it was the hope of the Warhawk to ensure that the Buzhouians were made aware of certain expectations.
"And those expectations are what exactly?" Kuveer finally asked from his spot at the head of the meeting table. He did not seem overly dismissive of Orion's announcements, yet the psyker was not happy at this development either.
"Only that you and your forces achieve expected success rates." The Warhawk wasn't looking for Kuveer and his people to die gloriously in battle, not unless it served a greater purpose. "As such, I am here to command but also assist your group. I have experience in working alongside human commanders, which is likely one of the core reasons for my appointment."
Kuveer slowly nodded, "I see…" As he leaned back into his chair, the psyker gave Orion another scrutinizing look, "I would be remiss in saying that while I have some misgivings on this development, it is pleasing to hear that the Khan of Khans has taken a vested interest in our detachment." Kuveer paused as he looked around at the meeting room, "Although only by so much."
Orion saw where this was going, "Yes…your deck claim has much to be desired. I imagine there have been issues?"
He expected a more diplomatic response, but this seemed to have been the wrong thing to say. For the first time, Kuveer's own officers started to voice their own opinions on their living situation. All the while, their Gemlord seemed content just to sit there and listen.
The Knight-Warden was used to bickering and complaining officers, but he wasn't exactly prepared for the barrage of complaints and reality checks. The sad truth was that the Buzhouians were holding on, but considering millions of their people were still just trying to find safe sections. There were many reports; everything from gas leaks and power outages to targeted harassment and even a few attacks by ship personnel or members of another regiment.
After about twenty minutes of this, Orion finally got the scope of how inconvenient the Deck Claim for the Buzhouians was and that it likely wasn't going to improve. As Orion noticed that Kuveer remained silent, it was clear now that the Gemlord was more invested in letting his officers air their grievances. Which made Orion suspect that Kuveer had his own qualms about this situation.
"I think the Captain has heard enough." Kuveer spoke loudly over the clamor of his officers, "In any case, this meeting wasn't about the situation with the so-called 'Deck Claim' given to our people."
Orion frowned at hearing that, 'As if you didn't plan on that being the focus of the meeting.' The Knight-Warden thought to himself, recognizing that Kuveer did all of this intentionally.
"Return to your posts," Kuveer spoke up to his officers, "I shall speak with the Captain in private before returning with further instructions." His officers didn't even nod or respond. Instead, they all wordlessly stood, saluted Kuveer, and swiftly exited the room. All in less than a minute.
There was a brief moment of silence shared between the two. Kuveer slowly tapped his right hand on the table, looking expectantly at Orion. Instead, the Knight-Warden glared a moment at the psyker before speaking.
"I was more than aware of the situation your detachment faces in this…living situation."
Kuveer responded with only a small "Hmm…" He knew that Orion wasn't the type to come down here wholly ignorant of their situation. However, the Gemlord wasn't so easily swayed by just a simple face-to-face meeting.
"I'm sure you have the best of intentions," Kuveer spoke up, finally. "And the Khan of Khans does honor us by sending us one of his best fighters, even if a foreign one." Again, the Buzhouians had a strange hang-up on foreigners.
"But even so," Kuveer continued, "Our reality doesn't exactly give us much hope or confidence for our long-term survival." He gestured around the mess room turned meeting room, "It's not the broken or grime-covered walls that frustrate us. So many of my soldiers grew up in poverty. I grew up poor before the State picked me up. Even then, I spent most of my life in what could generously be called a barracks of sorts."
He leaned forward and looked Orion in the eyes, "No. What frustrates my people is that we will not be able to perform effectively if we are unable to meet even the most basic living conditions."
Orion understood their plight. However, he wasn't swayed, "You aren't the only ones having to deal with a bad Deck Claim. More importantly, if you are unable to operate effectively in peacetime, then you shall not survive when it comes time for war." There was a point where Orion was sympathetic and another where he wouldn't mince his words.
The Gemlord seemed to take offense to that, "My forces are more than prepared for battle. We are a capable and elite unit."
"The Warhawk seems to agree with that assessment, notwithstanding how your forces were completely routed." Orion didn't feel any remorse for driving that particular point home.
Now Kuveer seemed quite angry, "My forces were-"
"Completely out skilled, outmatched, and out-coordinated." Orion interjected with some force in his tone, "And there is no shame in that. You went up against perhaps the most skilled field commander in maneuver and tactical warfare in the entire galaxy. But while there is no shame, it does not indicate that your forces are deserving of being accommodated with better living conditions…at least not without someone vouching for you."
If Orion's words had any effect on Kuveer's temperament, he didn't see it. That said, the psyker didn't argue any further. He seemed to have picked up what Orion was going for now. "Am I to believe you would vouch for us?"
"If we are going to work together, yes." Orion nodded once, "I have no qualms over using my influence to assist you in such matters." Skullface had taught Orion just how easy it was to get any man to agree to a deal, especially if it was legitimately in their favor.
Kuveer certainly looked interested, although he didn't exactly jump at the chance, "Then what can you do? And what do you expect from us?"
"Cooperation." Orion remarked succinctly, "We shall be put into hellfire and more in the coming years. It would be best to ensure that we can work together, lest we end up in a Tsagaan Sar. To that end, I do believe the upcoming Naadaam would be a good proving grounds for this new friendship." He paused for a moment, "You are aware of those practices, correct?"
"Vaguely." Kuveer shrugged, "We've been busy down here, but I've learned enough from my agents." The Buzhouians were sending out spies? Orion would make sure not to mention that part to the Khan. "I have no desire to shame myself or my people in any event, be it in peacetime or war. The Undying Spirit forbids dishonor or weak spirits." Orion had to respect that he at least was spirited.
"Then let us seek to aid each other." Orion was happy to see this going in a positive direction. "I should have enough sway to get your detachment moved to a better deck."
Rather than a nod or look of relief, Kuveer instead looked pensive, "And how will you go about finding our replacement?"
"I will find some regiment that is without merits or honor and send them down here. That should free up enough space to send your forces up to a better deck in the meanwhile." A relatively simple but effective solution.
So Orion was quite surprised when Kuveer shook his head, "I'm sorry, but I cannot accept that."
"What?" Orion couldn't understand where this was coming from, "Why would you not want to take this offer?!"
Kuveer sighed, "We do not wish to burden those that live on Echo-02, or the other sections, with having to deal with criminals or those without honor. The people on the sections suffer in these living conditions just as we are now. To that end, we do not wish to increase their burdens."
"With respect, you don't owe these people anything." Orion quickly recalled the sergeant willing to call men like Kuveer a Freaker. "Their lives were already terrible; you coming or going will not change that."
"Perhaps." Kuveer nodded, "Yet our people were raised to believe that individuals had a responsibility and purpose towards the greater good of society. This was made crucial for those with prismatic souls, for our power meant we could do the most good. Even if people feared or hated us, we are servants of the people."
The Gemlord leaned back into his chair, "We are now Imperials, which means all those who live under our protection via the Deck Claim are our people. Our duty to them remains the same even if they never appreciate or accept us."
Orion could stare at how Kuveer refused to take an easy solution if it meant causing problems for complete strangers. It was almost respectable. Indeed, a few of the Primarchs would applaud such determination for various reasons; loyalty to order, to their community, or their fellow man.
However, Orion wasn't here to entertain such lofty ideals.
The Knight-Warden considered his options. Kuveer didn't want the replacement group to be an awful one. Very well, that simply meant that Orion had to get soldiers that had a modicum of respect and restraint and get them to take on the Buzhouians Deck Claims.
He might as well ask a Space Wolf not to drink or a Salamander to use a fire weapon! No sane man would give up their creature comforts for a significantly worse environment. You'd have to be a fool to take it. The only thing worse would be having to stay on a battlefield…
'That's it!' Orion had a solution brewing in his mind. "If it matters that much, that I shall get a replacement regiment that will not cause problems for the locals and do so willingly at that."
Kuveer raised a solitary eyebrow at that, "I must admit…I am curious at how you will be able to pull that off."
"I will need to speak with the Warhawk…but it should be more than possible once I create the proper incentive." The Knight-Warden stood up from his seat, "To that end, if this is the only thing holding back your cooperation, then I shall endeavor to resolve it right away. Have your people ready to move within the next few weeks."
While Kuveer wasn't entirely convinced, Orion could sense the man was hopeful at whatever the space marine was trying to pull off. "My people will need to spend the next few days reviewing what will have to happen for the move once we receive further instructions, but I do believe they will be highly motivated to do so."
"Good." Orion was ready to leave this cesspit, "I shall send word once something is set in stone. After that, we can begin to actually address what will be necessary to make this cooperation of ours work."
The Gemlord nodded once more, "I must thank you for your…enthusiasm in trying to help my people while fitting within my request." He gave the barest of smiles now, "I can see why so many of the Astartes around this fleet speak highly of you."
Orion, however, frowned at hearing those words, "You best temper your expectations of me. Just as you are an adherent to your Undying Spirit, I am as well to the principles of my Legion. Let me make it clear to you that I expect you to follow my commands. And for you understand that while your forces are under my command, we will be venturing into the most dangerous of warzones and facing foes that your world has never encountered before."
Yet Kuveer did not seem deterred, "I understand. All of us were raised to believe that our lives were not worth the survival of the State. To that end, we Buzhouians understand that a noble and honorable sacrifice is preferable to a pitiful existence when the time comes. You shall find no cravens among our numbers."
Orion had heard those words from men and officers before. No one knew what fear was until they stood before a daemon or one of the ancient horrors of this galaxy. Skullface had shown Orion just how easy it was to break a man, and after the horrific battles on RP-28, when Imperial fought against Imperial, Orion had grown distrustful of most men claiming a lack of fear.
Yet perhaps Kuveer and the Buzhouians were different. While a trillion may falter, Orion needed only a hundred thousand brave souls to follow him to ensure victory. Time will tell how this Gemlord and his men fare now.
"We shall see."
Their meeting concluded with those words.
---
Orion's solution was relatively straightforward when he explained it to the Warhawk and Jubal. What was worse for a soldier: Living in squalor or in a warzone? A strange question, but one that had a pair of answers.
A fresh regiment, wholly inexperienced and unaware of the rigors of war, would naturally assume that most battles would either be quick affairs, especially with Astarte's support or would turn into a drawn-out conflict. They would think that they would have time to rest and regain their bearings in either case.
However, all those within the White Scars knew better, as did Orion. Once the expedition began, there would be no stopping. It would be exhausting for the uninitiated, and even the experienced would find themselves drained. Yet to that end, it still wouldn't make sense for any commander to give up their Deck Claim in that instance. Not unless they were offered something in exchange.
A prize worthy of living in the muck for who knows how long.
Thus Orion came up with an offer that most would take if given a chance: Take a lousy Deck Claim in exchange for rear echelon duty. When the Primarch heard the suggestion, he laughed, but he took a moment to consider it. The Warhawk readily recognized just how endemic and problematic Deck Claims had become in the Imperium these days, and while this solution was only applicable in certain instances, it can easily work.
To that end, Orion offered another suggestion to the Khan. Namely, the possibility of a lottery system for good Deck Claims. The logic there was built upon the idea that the White Scars could claim one of the nicer decks, hold it, and then via a lottery system, a regiment could be lucky to snag it for themselves.
No doubt that would annoy or even anger certain commanders, but it would give an illusion of the Primarch attempting to address the issues of Deck Claims further, rather than just a series of one-off deals.
All of this would need a bit more refinement, but the Warhawk granted Orion permission to seek out a regiment that fit the criteria that Kuveer was looking for and was willing to take rear echelon duties.
It took Orion only a few hours to get a dozen requests. By the end of the day, he had almost a hundred regiments willing to trade with the Buzhouians if it meant not taking active combat assignments. When Orion reported this development to the Warhawk, he became very dismayed at just how many men and women wanted to stay out of combat, also quite interested at how popular this had become in only a single day.
To that end, Orion was thanked by the Primarch for taking the initiative and resolving any possible command issues with the Buzhouians. And the Primarch even rewarded him, albeit in the strangest way possible.
He informed the Primarch of what was to come. An event that the Warhawk had only recently advised his captains and stormseers of was that a great tournament would be had to commemorate the legion's victory in the Ritual War and bless their expedition into the unknown. The Primarch remarked that Orion would be taking part in an event as an honored guess.
The Dain Naadam; the War Games.
---
@Daemon Hunter Okay, finally done with this one. I sort of just started trailing off because I really wanted to finish this omake.
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Hey guys when did we do the Rebuke to lorgar
Year 36-40 Part 5 New Arrivals and Visions
- Location
- Elsewhere
GM Note: Special thanks to several players on Discord for helping me with some very nice quotes. @Ruirk , @TinyGladiator , @argenten , @Nicholas Brooks
"It will be done Lord Emperor." - Lion El'Jonson
"What hell have we just slain?." - Fulgrim
"You are the Black Brigades. You will be the hammer that mold worlds to the Imperium's liking." - Perturabo
"Very well Kelbor, I accept." - Jagathai Khan
"What on Terra was Fulgrim trying in that meeting?" - Leman Russ
"I will assist Lord Emperor." - Rogal Dorn
"I don't trust your truths, and so I ask for wealth. Money does not lie." - Konrad Curze
"What is the meaning of this Aldritch? This is a shameful display of corruption among your subordinates." - Sanguinius
"I don't think I can survive a Fulgrim this happy again." - Ferrus Manus
"When you get to Nuceria, kill it." - Angron
"I think I need to hire some assassins." - Roboute Guilliman
"Typhon, deal with the crusade for me." - Mortarion
"I find myself with no good choices and information that I cannot share." - Magnus
"This isn't what my father would have done. He cares … cared." - Horus Lupercal
"What do I do?" - Vulkan
"The dead do not disappear. Regardless of how much we wish they might." - Corvus Corax
"Well, it seems I'll need to have words with Magnus." - Alpharius
"Cough. Keep an eye on Fabius." - Omegon
"Are you sure about this, Magnus?" Amon spoke softly, as Magnus etched the final section of the ritual. "If the Emperor is as involved as you say, he'll have some way to detect this."
Magnus didn't speak, instead, finalizing the components of the ritual. "That doesn't matter here." Just as the final carving was put into place, the Cyclops spoke. "Unlike Mortarion, I understand why the Emperor did what he did to Angron." He stood as psychic power began to channel itself as the Primarch desired. "If he detects me, I accept that. But what I fear is that Angron may not have been revived by my father."
"It's good Mortarion isn't here to hear your words."
The Cyclops sighed. "For once, he means well, but his lack of diverse knowledge betrays him." Nowadays, Magnus understood the Pale King far more than he ever expected he would. "His experience with revivals after death have always been twisted slaves, but not every soul brought back from the dead is like that."
Amon didn't speak, but Magnus knew what he was thinking. His adoptive father feared the Eldar might have been the cause of the revival as much as Magnus himself. But eventually, Amon spoke once more. "And what if it is the Eldar that revived him as you fear? Wouldn't they have revived him with greater skill?"
"It's simply what I fear, not what I expect." If the Eldar had been involved with Angron's … Angron-ness, then Magnus would be having exceedingly harsh words with them. "And reviving the dead isn't easy, you need access to the soul, a large amount of power, and far more skill than any. I can only barely do it, and even then it's risky." Magnus still didn't understand how the Emperor could have revived Angron, the sheer power needed to revive a Primarch …, he didn't think that even the Master of Man had it at his disposal. "There are two beings in the galaxy that could have revived one of my brothers. And only one of which was here at the time of his death."
"And yet, you still haven't told me how you think the Emperor brought him back." Amon knew Magnus well, either the Cyclops was clutching at straws, or the possibilities the Primarch thought of were monstrous. "Tell me, how worried do I have to be about your brothers staging a coup over this?"
Magnus stilled, he should have considered that. "You don't have to be." His voice came out flatter than he expected, but Amon almost looked approving. "If my findings would cause one, I won't be sharing it."
"That does comfort me." Amon looked visibly relieved. "What's the worst case for all of this?"
"There's two worst cases." Magnus had run through those cases far too much in his mind. "The first is Cegorach revived him to cripple the Imperium. I don't think I need to explain just how bad that would be." If the Laughing God had intentionally caused the deaths of a quadrillion humans, then the Eldar as a whole was far more monstrous than even Vulkan thought. And Magnus would swear to end them for it. "The other is that the Emperor sacrificed Angron's family to revive him after he fell in battle keeping them alive. And had to shackle the Red Angel's mind to prevent him from outright killing the Emperor." Amon looked as if he was about to speak up, but Magnus continued first. "The true story is likely far kinder than that. The Emperor likely didn't have the power to revive him fully."
"How much power would have been needed?" Amon rubbed his chin, going through the calculations but not entirely able to fully process the variables. "How many of you would you have needed to revive Angron?"
"A hundred." Amon frowned, tilting his head in contemplation. "Or ten of my creator, at least, at my skill level."
"Then how would the Emperor have even revived him? It sounds as if only the Eldar would have been capable of this." The Thousand Sons' words were expected, but Magnus had an explanation for it.
"I think he used Nuceria itself as a bind, lacing his power through both the planet and Angron. It would explain why he didn't destroy it." Magnus clicked his tongue as the darker part of his thoughts came to light. "As well as why the Nails affect his mind so strongly. Trying to revive him without the Nails … I don't think it was even possible at all. So much of this revival should have been impossible even then."
"I don't think this speculation is helping us at this point." Amon gritted his teeth as he spoke, annoyance creeping into his voice. "There are too many unknowns, too many impossibilities here. That binding, at most it'd halve the power needed. That's five-fold the power the Emperor would have had."
"No one would have missed the Nucerians." Using souls as fuel for a spell was something Magnus knew was possible, but it was also one of the most monstrous things one could do. "It would explain why they seem to have such little idea on what transpired that day. Those that survived wound up as fuel to revive my brother."
"And that still doesn't answer the question of how such a revival was powered. Human souls are piddling compared to the soul of a Primarch." Amon muttered to himself, trying to calculate how many would have been needed. "But, there is much about souls we don't know. Perhaps... it would have been just enough for just enough.."
By now, the angle of the sun was perfect for the ritual, and Magnus stepped forward onto his prepared space. Around him, a hundred of his sons were channeling their own strength into the prepared channels, and Magnus dug into the warp with them.
He looked into the past and saw nothing. Then he looked further, peeling away the decades with physical proximity to Angron's place of death. He saw his brother, Angronius of Nuceria, he saw him as a slave for a moment, and Magnus felt something drag him forward. He resisted, and he felt an ethereal chain break before stronger bands forced him into the future.
He saw Mortarion, Horus, and Kesar talking to him on Nuceria. "Magnus, what have you found?"
The Magnus of the future looked at him. Then back at the three Primarchs and sighed. "Nothing."
"What are you doing?" Magnus spoke, audible only to his future self.
His future self worked a quick spell so that his voice could only be heard by Magnus. "I can't share what I found with Mortarion." He glanced up into the sky. "Not without starting a fight."
"What did we find?" Magnus asked, dreading the answer.
Magnus of the future smiled sadly. "You'll see. Your vision isn't over yet."
The edges of his vision began to turn grey, and then the future Magnus turned to speak to his brothers, and the vision faded entirely.
And then, Magnus saw Nuceria, as it was on the day Angron died.
He was on the field of a battle both sides had lost, where the living beings were rare, and far outnumbered by the dead.
He saw corpses across the horizon, easily in the dozens of millions. Almost all of whom were in Nucerian military garb.
Magnus walked forward, lifting a dozen bodies instinctively, looking at the slave below, who had died with a smile on his face, and his broken sword in the body of a Nucerian soldier.
The Cyclops heard crying laughter, as the last of the Nucerian soldiers finished off the last of the slaves. The Primarch counted the number that still lived. Perhaps a thousand at most.
His eyes were drawn to a mountain of bodies.
There were millions within that mound alone.
He knew what he would find inside.
He still walked over to look.
He climbed, listening to the few Nucerian soldiers still alive celebrating their continued existence. Not one of them looked as if they were the victors.
Magnus climbed to the top of the mound and looked at the hand of a Primarch that escaped it. One that was still holding a dead Nucerian soldier by the throat.
It was Angron's hand.
And attached to it, was the body of Angronius of Nuceria.
He could see scars where Angron drew his own blood to feed his family.
He could see countless wounds Angron had taken on that day.
He could see the paleness on Angron's face, as what little blood that remained in his body had long since drained away.
He could see a smile on his brother's face. A peaceful, joyous smile he had never seen on Angron.
He could see, that Angron had died free.
The Nucerians choked, and Magnus snapped his head towards them.
The few survivors gasped for air, as telekinetic force pressed on their necks. Force that was applied from across the system.
And Magnus knew that the Emperor had arrived too late.
Angron was dead.
But his soul lingered, watching the end of his rebellion, watching his family die. His soul was at peace.
Then Magnus ran into what he could only describe as a wall in time. Reeling metaphysically, he found himself back in the present, blood dripping from his eye and nose. He blinked away phantom images of the past as his sons looked at him with concerned eyes. "Well, Amon, it was the Emperor."
"How did he do it?"
"He used the dead as fuel."
Even from orbit, Nuceria looked ugly to Kesar. It may have been unfair of him to think that, but considering what he knew of it, the Second Anathema didn't care. If they were right, this world killed his brother and ended any chance Angron had at happiness. A single Stormbird took him, Mortarion, and Horus onto the planet. A deadly silence hung within the aircraft.
Kesar wasn't sure if he should break it, it might be better this way. A solemn silence in the buildup to an answer for their brother's past. And a decision if Mortarion would damn the Emperor. The Primarch of the Wardens looked at Mortarion with concerned eyes, eyes which the Pale King met with barely concealed rage at the galaxy.
"What will you do?" Mortarion directed the words at Kesar, almost spitting them out as if the very thought of doing something besides damning the Emperor was ever an option.
"I don't know," Kesar spoke softly in comparison, far more conflicted than the Pale King was. "I trust the Emperor to have done what was best for man." A look of resolve nonetheless flashed across the Daemonsbane's face. "If he didn't … I will have words with him."
"You won't need to," Horus spoke next, his face betraying the emotional turmoil within him. "I've had time to think."
"Don't you dare Horus," Mortarion glared at the other Primarch, even as Kesar subtly moved between the two. "The dead should stay dead, it doesn't matter why or how he did it, only that he did."
The Breaker of Tyrants didn't respond at first, gazing at Mortarion as multiple emotions flashed across his face in rapid succession. When he finally spoke, his voice was kind, as if he could convey sympathy through four words alone."Father isn't Necare Mortarion."
Kesar overtly stepped between them this time, as he looked at the Pale King with a worried expression. Mortarion didn't speak, didn't even dare to breathe. He just turned around and sat as far away from Horus as he could. The Primarch of the Wardens looked at Horus, disappointment on his face. "You shouldn't have said that brother."
Horus sighed, "It has to be said. All of this" He brought up a hand as he rubbed his tired eyes. "The truth, whatever it is, we have to face it." Whispering softly enough that even a Primarch couldn't eavesdrop, the Breaker of Tyrants confided in his younger brother "What we find will be ugly, it will hurt, but … we can't let that get in the way of this. Not now."
"He cares Horus," Kesar whispered back. "If it's as he fears, then the Emperor has gone too far. And I won't be able to abide by him for much longer."
"What else do you want me to say to him?" Horus sounded frustrated, more so than Kesar had thought to hear from his brother, "Do I entertain his fears? Do we accept what might have happened before seeing any evidence to the contrary?" Horus' voice grew in volume forcing him to take a breath. "The Emperor is our father Kesar, and without evidence, we're already turning on him."
"It's not like that brother."
Before Horus could respond, Mortarion interjected himself into the conversation. "You're right." From his seat, the Pale King looked up, eyes locked onto Horus. "Necare didn't hide his evils."
Horus' expression was complicated. Acknowledgment that the Emperor wasn't all kind, indignation at the implication that his father was worse than a necromancer, guilt at his own words. What wasn't complicated, was his response. "Evils you say. As if we haven't done acts that would be considered evil by most of humanity."
Kesar winced at hearing that remark. Perhaps there was a stinging truth to that claim, but everything done in the name of humanity had been necessary. This galaxy had already proven that it only respected and honored those that were willing to do whatever it took to ensure that sanity survived. That a small glimmer of hope remained. "We're being hasty here." Eyes turned to Kesar as he swallowed nervously. "Both of you care in your own ways, you know that right?"
Twin nods were his response, along with a short statement from Mortarion. "Why do you think I'm infuriated right now?"
"We know brother." Kesar gave a kind smile, focusing on mediating. "Can we agree to set this aside until Magnus shared what he found?"
Horus tilted his head, nonverbally letting Mortarion decide if the conversation should pause here or not. "Fine," he growled.
The rest of the flight was tense, as Kesar felt his own anxiety rise. Mortarion and Horus themselves were like two coiled springs, ready to explode at any given moment. It only got worse as the Stormbird approached the landing site. Before it had even landed, Mortarion stood, wrenching the aircraft's door open and jumping out, with Horus right behind him. Kesar was only a moment behind them himself, landing on the sands of Nuceria as Magnus glanced at the three of them before looking off somewhere else. Mortarion spoke immediately, demanding an answer "Magnus, what have you found?"
Kesar could taste the tension in the air, and feel it in his bones. It might not have been the work of those Archdaemons in the warp, but there was something awful, something that brought low even Primarchs awaiting. It all depended on what Magnus said. Was the Emperor a monster? Or did they simply misunderstand? The Cyclops glanced into the distance, then to the three Primarchs as he sighed. "Nothing."
"What?" Mortarion growled as he stepped closer. "How did you find nothing?"
Magnus stepped back, distracted by his brother's anger. Horus stepped towards the Pale King, grabbing his shoulder, "calm down, it's not his fault."
"Let go." Mortarion's words were ice, and Horus immediately complied. "We can't have come here for nothing! There has to be a sign. A mark. A remnant. A memory. Something. What happened here couldn't have just been wiped away. It can't. This had to have happened here, or else... when did he die? Where?"
"We haven't Mortarion." Kesar stepped forward, holding his hands up placatingly, "we've just arrived, there's plenty we can do."
Mortarion bristled, the words only seeming to fuel his irritation. "You're a psyker Magnus, you have to have found something. What have you been doing here otherwise?"
Horus didn't let Magnus respond, instead, the Breaker of Tyrants spoke soothingly to his brother, "Mortarion, can we talk in private?"
The Pale King glanced between the Primarchs before shaking his head, "fine", despite his body language betraying his true thoughts, at the end of the day, Mortarion still trusted Horus even now. The two Primarchs walked away as Kesar turned to Magnus.
"Did you really find nothing?"
"I couldn't find anything to share," Magnus spoke sadly, even as Kesar caught the double meaning in his words.
"Magnus," Kesar spoke with horror in his voice, "Mortarion will never forgive you for this. You have to - "
"I have to do this Kesar." The Cyclops interrupted the Second Anathema, his voice laced with adamantium, "Mortarion … he won't care, he just cares on if Angron was revived. It's black or white to him, there's no middle ground."
"He deserves to know brother." Kesar laid a hand on Magnus' shoulder, looking him in the eyes to convey how serious he was about this. "Mortarion considers Angron to be his brother, all of this … it's eating at him from the inside, just tell him."
"I can't Kesar!" Magnus shouted, a wave of force echoing within a psychic barrier the Cyclops instantly raised. "If I do, we lose two brothers instead of one."
"Do you trust me at least?"
A bitter laugh escaped Magnus. "I trust that you care. Too much for this."
"Mortarion deserves the truth, Magnus." Kesar seemed almost desperate to convince his brother, for he knew that this was a point of no return. "You're acting like the Emperor right now. I imagine he had similar logic for keeping knowledge of the Archdaemons from us."
Magnus froze, his eye staring at Kesar in an odd mix of pleading and anger, "this is different, I have good reasons for this, I need to do this."
"So. Did. He," Kesar said simply, as Magnus seemed to shrink into himself, looking bereft and lost. "What did you find? Tell me."
"Can you accept the consequences of this? The burden of a secret that could tear the Imperium in two." The sand of Nuceria seemed to swirl around the Primarch, almost energized at the prospect.
Kesar himself felt as if he was at the edge of a precipice, one he would never be able to escape after he jumped in. And yet, there was one flaw of Kesar's which ensured his decision. He cared. "I can."
"I'm sorry," Horus spoke first once the two brothers were far enough to avoid being overheard. "I know this isn't what you want."
"I hate this. All of it." Mortarion groused, wishing he could kill something and solve this. "I hate the Emperor for what he did, I hate Magnus for being useless, I hate Kesar for thinking he understands, I hate you because fuck you for what you said," Horus winced at that, maybe he did make things too personal. "And I hate this damn planet. It's a waste in every sense of the word."
"I … I know I said things I shouldn't have," Horus spoke from the heart, his own hurt bleeding into his voice. "You were angry because you were concerned, but I couldn't acknowledge that. If I did, I would have to acknowledge that our father did something awful." Horus snorted, remembering the good times he had with his father. "And I didn't want to do that."
"You still don't," Mortarion said bluntly. "Your love for him blinds you."
"Maybe it does." Even he had to admit that he might be biased here. "But I believe in him, what I fear is that you only care if he revived Angron or not." Horus took the plunge, laying out his deepest worry regarding the situation. "I fear that you won't care why the Emperor did it. You won't care about the circumstances or what the intention was. I fear that you will only care about a binary yes or no."
"I don't want to hear a good reason!" Mortarion exclaimed quietly to Horus. "I don't want us to accept this! What good is there for us in that?!"
"Closure." Horus remarked quietly, "It will help us accept the reality of this situation. And we need to face that fact...what's done is done."
"Closure?" Mortarion spoke with derision. "Closure is worthless, closure is what people tell themselves when they realize they can't live with their memories. Closure is what people use to pretend things never happened. You can't close your eyes and pretend it never happened!"
"Closure is what signifies acceptance Mortarion. It doesn't mean to forget, it means to accept what happened." This was dangerous territory for Horus, he knew Mortarion well enough that the idea of closure was almost antithetical to him. For decades he had spurned closure in regards to Barbarus, choosing to carry that weight on his soul instead. "What's done is done. We can't change what happened to Angron. Nothing we do can turn back time."
"I don't care." Horus forced himself to remain quiet instead of letting out a strangled scream. "I have seen necromancy before. I know how to do it even. I know more about it than anyone ever should thanks to my father." The last word was filled with utter loathing, and Horus knew exactly who he was referring to. "Every dead soul, every ghost, every wraith, every revenant, all of them suffered after being brought back. Angron suffered just like them, losing his mind, wishing for a past that already died."
This wasn't working, Horus thought, instead, he tried a different tact. "Mortarion, do you think Angron loves you? Does he consider you a brother?"
Mortarion looked at him with cold, weary eyes. "Don't you dare try and work that angle."
"Just answer the question," Horus snapped, his emotions boiling over.
It said something, that it took Mortarion a while to consider the question. Despite everything that had happened, the Pale King wasn't entirely sure. "...I think he does."
"And do you believe that Angron wishes the best for you?" Horus stepped towards Mortarion, placing a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it soothingly.
"I have to believe he does." Buried beneath Mortarion's rough voice, was a flicker of raw emotion. A vulnerability he desperately sought to hide.
"Then keep that in mind when you think about throwing your life away in the hopes of avenging him." Horus sighed, dragging Mortarion into a hug. "You might be one of a handful of people that understands him and his love. If you die … all of that fades away."
The Pale King didn't speak, just standing there upon the sands of Nuceria with his brother. For a minute, they stood there, the only sound being the haunting melody of the wind.
"Then what should I do?" Mortarion's voice wasn't weak, just confused. An odd tone for the Pale King nonetheless.
"I don't know. I wish I could tell you."
"I only know some of it. The intricacies of our father's work elude me." Magnus spoke in a mixture of awe and defeat, as he shared a secret that could split the Imperium apart. "He had no other choice if he wanted Angron to serve. When he arrived, all that was available was a corpse and a soul."
"Then what's the problem?" Kesar spoke up, confused. It sounded as if the only other choice the Emperor had was to let Angron die. "Was he supposed to just let Angron rot?"
"His return to the world of the living was met with too many complications." Magnus seemed to struggle over the wording as he broke down the issues as he saw. "Our father didn't have the power needed to revive him without the Nails, and they anchored themselves within him."
"Would he have known the risks in the first place?" Kesar inquired, tilting his head even as his mind furiously worked through the alternate outcomes of such a scenario.
"I believe he would have." An illusion formed in front of the Primarch, light itself bent to show what Magnus had seen. A vision of the battlefield after the last of Angron's family had died, with the Nucerians dying as the Emperor arrived. "To revive a soul, you need power. To revive a Primarch, you need even more power." Magnus ended the illusion, waiting until Kesar looked him in the eye before he continued. "Our father took that power from the souls of the Highriders. And I believe those that die on Nuceria feed our brother's soul to this day."
"That's what it takes to keep him alive? The lives of a whole planet?" Kesar had always considered tampering with souls to be a line he would never cross, and to think that the Emperor had done so …
"All their rage, their pain, their burning essence. Kindling to a flame." Magnus spoke as if he was lecturing. "In a way, Angron truly has become an eater of a world. Maybe even others. Perhaps this is why he so brutally destroys those in his way."
"He subconsciously feels the need to kill to remain alive," Kesar spoke with horror at the revelation. "How could this happen?" Kesar asked aloud, not necessarily to Magnus, "Was Angron damned to this fate from the start? Was there ever any chance for him?"
Magnus looked as if he didn't want to say anymore, yet he seemed to will his voice to speak up, "I don't want to think this was destined to happen any more than any of us were fated to end up where we were now. Yet I can't help but feel that somewhere in time, there might have been a chance for him."
"So that is it?" Kesar looked over at this brother, feeling the weight of this possibility, "Father, or anyone for that matter was simply too late to ever help Angron." Such a notion filled Kesar with dread, as his hand subconsciously brushed against an old wound given by the Lord of Change on Valhalla all those years ago.
"Now you see why I can't share this with Mortarion." Magnus seemed lost even now. Determined yes, but bearing a weight of secrets. "The moment he hears 'fueled by souls', he'll turn on the Emperor no matter how doomed of a struggle it would be."
"I hate this." The words came out of Kesar against his will. Maybe if he had spent more time with Angron, could things have changed? Was such a line of thought even productive? "I can either lose Mortarion now by speaking the truth, or lose him later when he discovers it for himself."
"There's another option." Magnus seemed to hesitate, as he chewed on his lip in thought. "I could erase this conversation from your mind entirely, taking on the burden of knowledge alone."
[] "I couldn't ask you to do that." Despite it all, it was better to learn of the Emperor's horrific secrets than live in ignorance.
[] "Alright, get it over with." This knowledge will only hurt Kesar. There was no point in risking a relationship with Mortarion over it.
Lion furrowed his brow at the sight he saw. When the Emperor sent him to Nuceria, he was expecting a particularly skilled diviner, or perhaps some extensive infiltration net seeking to undermine the Imperium. He wasn't sure what secret the Emperor sought to protect, only that he was meant to prevent anyone from investigating the planet. "Rogal, this assignment has just become far more complicated."
At his side, the Unyielding One stared implacably at the mixed Death Guard, Luna Wolf, Eternal Warden, and Thousand Son fleet. A small assortment from each Legion, perhaps a total of 20 thousand Astartes at most. "Only if they insist on staying. It's possible they may simply have been investigating Angron's past for the Tribunal."
"I doubt we would be so fortunate." Lion shifted in his seat, coming up with a hundred strategies on what to do. "None of us are meant to know whatever secret of father's is on that world. And they may not listen unless we inform them in person."
"It would also be good form to greet the eleventh." Dorn's addition caused Lion to nod in agreement.
"Yes, it would." Standing up from his seat, the First Primarch gestured to an Astartes to take command as he began to walk towards the hangar alongside his brother. Directing orders to the fleet and the 40 thousand Astartes within, he spoke even as he began to walk. "Prepare both Legions for offensive operations, do not engage unless you receive an order from both I and Lord Primarch Dorn."
Below on the planet itself, Kesar looked up as Mortarion and Horus approached. Sitting there, he was about to make his decision on if he should reveal the information or not, only for Mortarion to pause. "Say again." Speaking to a vox unit in his mask, the Pale King seemed to have a conversation with his sons in orbit. "Acknowledged, don't do anything. Forward communications requests to me." Mortarion curled his hands before taking a deep breath. "Horus, Kesar, Magnus, Lion and Dorn just arrived in orbit."
"How, we've only been here for hours," Horus spoke up in surprise, as Magnus winced.
"I must have triggered some sort of detection ward." The Cyclops rubbed his head sheepishly. "I'm sorry, I was more focused on figuring out what happened than keeping it secret."
"Damn it Magnus, you've been less than worthless." Mortarion spat the words out, as Kesar's eyes widened in surprise, only for Horus to smack the Pale King over the head.
"Don't you dare Mortarion." The Breaker of Tyrants spoke in an acidic voice. "Magnus did everything he could here, don't take out your anger on him."
Mortarion turned to glare at Horus for a moment, a brief exchange seemed to pass as Mortarion gave a curt nod. "You're right. I shouldn't have said that."
[] Don't say anything. Mortarion is already at the end of his rope. To rile him up with knowledge now, before meeting with Lion and Dorn would only serve to inflame tensions. Regardless of how much Kesar's relationship with Mortarion would be harmed in the future. (Chosen by default if Kesar accepts the mindwipe, albeit without the risk to Kesar and Mortarion's future relationship)
[] Share what Magnus has found. Revealing what Magnus found would ensure Mortarion continues to remain amicable with Kesar. While Magnus would experience significant blowback from Mortarion over keeping this secret, perhaps Horus and Kesar can keep him calm? Magnus himself would be highly displeased with this.
[] Try and make Magnus share what he found. Trying to get Magnus to share the information himself won't be easy. But if Mortarion hears it from him, then perhaps their relationship may be salvaged. However, there is a large chance Magnus may not even decide to share this information even if pressed.
[] Write-in
GM Note: Well, finals are all but done, and things are looking less busy for me for the next two weeks which is nice. Finally got time to write and here we go. As before, 12 hour moratorium.
"It will be done Lord Emperor." - Lion El'Jonson
"What hell have we just slain?." - Fulgrim
"You are the Black Brigades. You will be the hammer that mold worlds to the Imperium's liking." - Perturabo
"Very well Kelbor, I accept." - Jagathai Khan
"What on Terra was Fulgrim trying in that meeting?" - Leman Russ
"I will assist Lord Emperor." - Rogal Dorn
"I don't trust your truths, and so I ask for wealth. Money does not lie." - Konrad Curze
"What is the meaning of this Aldritch? This is a shameful display of corruption among your subordinates." - Sanguinius
"I don't think I can survive a Fulgrim this happy again." - Ferrus Manus
"When you get to Nuceria, kill it." - Angron
"I think I need to hire some assassins." - Roboute Guilliman
"Typhon, deal with the crusade for me." - Mortarion
"I find myself with no good choices and information that I cannot share." - Magnus
"This isn't what my father would have done. He cares … cared." - Horus Lupercal
"What do I do?" - Vulkan
"The dead do not disappear. Regardless of how much we wish they might." - Corvus Corax
"Well, it seems I'll need to have words with Magnus." - Alpharius
"Cough. Keep an eye on Fabius." - Omegon
[X] Let the Imperial Army do what they want - Although the implementation cycle is expected to take 30, perhaps 40 years due to the sheer size of the Imperial Army, a full improvement to the massive force is worth the wait. *The Imperial Army as a whole gets a +1 in 35 years time (Year 70)*
[X] Yes
[X] Yes
"Are you sure about this, Magnus?" Amon spoke softly, as Magnus etched the final section of the ritual. "If the Emperor is as involved as you say, he'll have some way to detect this."
Magnus didn't speak, instead, finalizing the components of the ritual. "That doesn't matter here." Just as the final carving was put into place, the Cyclops spoke. "Unlike Mortarion, I understand why the Emperor did what he did to Angron." He stood as psychic power began to channel itself as the Primarch desired. "If he detects me, I accept that. But what I fear is that Angron may not have been revived by my father."
"It's good Mortarion isn't here to hear your words."
The Cyclops sighed. "For once, he means well, but his lack of diverse knowledge betrays him." Nowadays, Magnus understood the Pale King far more than he ever expected he would. "His experience with revivals after death have always been twisted slaves, but not every soul brought back from the dead is like that."
Amon didn't speak, but Magnus knew what he was thinking. His adoptive father feared the Eldar might have been the cause of the revival as much as Magnus himself. But eventually, Amon spoke once more. "And what if it is the Eldar that revived him as you fear? Wouldn't they have revived him with greater skill?"
"It's simply what I fear, not what I expect." If the Eldar had been involved with Angron's … Angron-ness, then Magnus would be having exceedingly harsh words with them. "And reviving the dead isn't easy, you need access to the soul, a large amount of power, and far more skill than any. I can only barely do it, and even then it's risky." Magnus still didn't understand how the Emperor could have revived Angron, the sheer power needed to revive a Primarch …, he didn't think that even the Master of Man had it at his disposal. "There are two beings in the galaxy that could have revived one of my brothers. And only one of which was here at the time of his death."
"And yet, you still haven't told me how you think the Emperor brought him back." Amon knew Magnus well, either the Cyclops was clutching at straws, or the possibilities the Primarch thought of were monstrous. "Tell me, how worried do I have to be about your brothers staging a coup over this?"
Magnus stilled, he should have considered that. "You don't have to be." His voice came out flatter than he expected, but Amon almost looked approving. "If my findings would cause one, I won't be sharing it."
"That does comfort me." Amon looked visibly relieved. "What's the worst case for all of this?"
"There's two worst cases." Magnus had run through those cases far too much in his mind. "The first is Cegorach revived him to cripple the Imperium. I don't think I need to explain just how bad that would be." If the Laughing God had intentionally caused the deaths of a quadrillion humans, then the Eldar as a whole was far more monstrous than even Vulkan thought. And Magnus would swear to end them for it. "The other is that the Emperor sacrificed Angron's family to revive him after he fell in battle keeping them alive. And had to shackle the Red Angel's mind to prevent him from outright killing the Emperor." Amon looked as if he was about to speak up, but Magnus continued first. "The true story is likely far kinder than that. The Emperor likely didn't have the power to revive him fully."
"How much power would have been needed?" Amon rubbed his chin, going through the calculations but not entirely able to fully process the variables. "How many of you would you have needed to revive Angron?"
"A hundred." Amon frowned, tilting his head in contemplation. "Or ten of my creator, at least, at my skill level."
"Then how would the Emperor have even revived him? It sounds as if only the Eldar would have been capable of this." The Thousand Sons' words were expected, but Magnus had an explanation for it.
"I think he used Nuceria itself as a bind, lacing his power through both the planet and Angron. It would explain why he didn't destroy it." Magnus clicked his tongue as the darker part of his thoughts came to light. "As well as why the Nails affect his mind so strongly. Trying to revive him without the Nails … I don't think it was even possible at all. So much of this revival should have been impossible even then."
"I don't think this speculation is helping us at this point." Amon gritted his teeth as he spoke, annoyance creeping into his voice. "There are too many unknowns, too many impossibilities here. That binding, at most it'd halve the power needed. That's five-fold the power the Emperor would have had."
"No one would have missed the Nucerians." Using souls as fuel for a spell was something Magnus knew was possible, but it was also one of the most monstrous things one could do. "It would explain why they seem to have such little idea on what transpired that day. Those that survived wound up as fuel to revive my brother."
"And that still doesn't answer the question of how such a revival was powered. Human souls are piddling compared to the soul of a Primarch." Amon muttered to himself, trying to calculate how many would have been needed. "But, there is much about souls we don't know. Perhaps... it would have been just enough for just enough.."
By now, the angle of the sun was perfect for the ritual, and Magnus stepped forward onto his prepared space. Around him, a hundred of his sons were channeling their own strength into the prepared channels, and Magnus dug into the warp with them.
He looked into the past and saw nothing. Then he looked further, peeling away the decades with physical proximity to Angron's place of death. He saw his brother, Angronius of Nuceria, he saw him as a slave for a moment, and Magnus felt something drag him forward. He resisted, and he felt an ethereal chain break before stronger bands forced him into the future.
He saw Mortarion, Horus, and Kesar talking to him on Nuceria. "Magnus, what have you found?"
The Magnus of the future looked at him. Then back at the three Primarchs and sighed. "Nothing."
"What are you doing?" Magnus spoke, audible only to his future self.
His future self worked a quick spell so that his voice could only be heard by Magnus. "I can't share what I found with Mortarion." He glanced up into the sky. "Not without starting a fight."
"What did we find?" Magnus asked, dreading the answer.
Magnus of the future smiled sadly. "You'll see. Your vision isn't over yet."
The edges of his vision began to turn grey, and then the future Magnus turned to speak to his brothers, and the vision faded entirely.
And then, Magnus saw Nuceria, as it was on the day Angron died.
He was on the field of a battle both sides had lost, where the living beings were rare, and far outnumbered by the dead.
He saw corpses across the horizon, easily in the dozens of millions. Almost all of whom were in Nucerian military garb.
Magnus walked forward, lifting a dozen bodies instinctively, looking at the slave below, who had died with a smile on his face, and his broken sword in the body of a Nucerian soldier.
The Cyclops heard crying laughter, as the last of the Nucerian soldiers finished off the last of the slaves. The Primarch counted the number that still lived. Perhaps a thousand at most.
His eyes were drawn to a mountain of bodies.
There were millions within that mound alone.
He knew what he would find inside.
He still walked over to look.
He climbed, listening to the few Nucerian soldiers still alive celebrating their continued existence. Not one of them looked as if they were the victors.
Magnus climbed to the top of the mound and looked at the hand of a Primarch that escaped it. One that was still holding a dead Nucerian soldier by the throat.
It was Angron's hand.
And attached to it, was the body of Angronius of Nuceria.
He could see scars where Angron drew his own blood to feed his family.
He could see countless wounds Angron had taken on that day.
He could see the paleness on Angron's face, as what little blood that remained in his body had long since drained away.
He could see a smile on his brother's face. A peaceful, joyous smile he had never seen on Angron.
He could see, that Angron had died free.
The Nucerians choked, and Magnus snapped his head towards them.
The few survivors gasped for air, as telekinetic force pressed on their necks. Force that was applied from across the system.
And Magnus knew that the Emperor had arrived too late.
Angron was dead.
But his soul lingered, watching the end of his rebellion, watching his family die. His soul was at peace.
Then Magnus ran into what he could only describe as a wall in time. Reeling metaphysically, he found himself back in the present, blood dripping from his eye and nose. He blinked away phantom images of the past as his sons looked at him with concerned eyes. "Well, Amon, it was the Emperor."
"How did he do it?"
"He used the dead as fuel."
Even from orbit, Nuceria looked ugly to Kesar. It may have been unfair of him to think that, but considering what he knew of it, the Second Anathema didn't care. If they were right, this world killed his brother and ended any chance Angron had at happiness. A single Stormbird took him, Mortarion, and Horus onto the planet. A deadly silence hung within the aircraft.
Kesar wasn't sure if he should break it, it might be better this way. A solemn silence in the buildup to an answer for their brother's past. And a decision if Mortarion would damn the Emperor. The Primarch of the Wardens looked at Mortarion with concerned eyes, eyes which the Pale King met with barely concealed rage at the galaxy.
"What will you do?" Mortarion directed the words at Kesar, almost spitting them out as if the very thought of doing something besides damning the Emperor was ever an option.
"I don't know," Kesar spoke softly in comparison, far more conflicted than the Pale King was. "I trust the Emperor to have done what was best for man." A look of resolve nonetheless flashed across the Daemonsbane's face. "If he didn't … I will have words with him."
"You won't need to," Horus spoke next, his face betraying the emotional turmoil within him. "I've had time to think."
"Don't you dare Horus," Mortarion glared at the other Primarch, even as Kesar subtly moved between the two. "The dead should stay dead, it doesn't matter why or how he did it, only that he did."
The Breaker of Tyrants didn't respond at first, gazing at Mortarion as multiple emotions flashed across his face in rapid succession. When he finally spoke, his voice was kind, as if he could convey sympathy through four words alone."Father isn't Necare Mortarion."
Kesar overtly stepped between them this time, as he looked at the Pale King with a worried expression. Mortarion didn't speak, didn't even dare to breathe. He just turned around and sat as far away from Horus as he could. The Primarch of the Wardens looked at Horus, disappointment on his face. "You shouldn't have said that brother."
Horus sighed, "It has to be said. All of this" He brought up a hand as he rubbed his tired eyes. "The truth, whatever it is, we have to face it." Whispering softly enough that even a Primarch couldn't eavesdrop, the Breaker of Tyrants confided in his younger brother "What we find will be ugly, it will hurt, but … we can't let that get in the way of this. Not now."
"He cares Horus," Kesar whispered back. "If it's as he fears, then the Emperor has gone too far. And I won't be able to abide by him for much longer."
"What else do you want me to say to him?" Horus sounded frustrated, more so than Kesar had thought to hear from his brother, "Do I entertain his fears? Do we accept what might have happened before seeing any evidence to the contrary?" Horus' voice grew in volume forcing him to take a breath. "The Emperor is our father Kesar, and without evidence, we're already turning on him."
"It's not like that brother."
Before Horus could respond, Mortarion interjected himself into the conversation. "You're right." From his seat, the Pale King looked up, eyes locked onto Horus. "Necare didn't hide his evils."
Horus' expression was complicated. Acknowledgment that the Emperor wasn't all kind, indignation at the implication that his father was worse than a necromancer, guilt at his own words. What wasn't complicated, was his response. "Evils you say. As if we haven't done acts that would be considered evil by most of humanity."
Kesar winced at hearing that remark. Perhaps there was a stinging truth to that claim, but everything done in the name of humanity had been necessary. This galaxy had already proven that it only respected and honored those that were willing to do whatever it took to ensure that sanity survived. That a small glimmer of hope remained. "We're being hasty here." Eyes turned to Kesar as he swallowed nervously. "Both of you care in your own ways, you know that right?"
Twin nods were his response, along with a short statement from Mortarion. "Why do you think I'm infuriated right now?"
"We know brother." Kesar gave a kind smile, focusing on mediating. "Can we agree to set this aside until Magnus shared what he found?"
Horus tilted his head, nonverbally letting Mortarion decide if the conversation should pause here or not. "Fine," he growled.
The rest of the flight was tense, as Kesar felt his own anxiety rise. Mortarion and Horus themselves were like two coiled springs, ready to explode at any given moment. It only got worse as the Stormbird approached the landing site. Before it had even landed, Mortarion stood, wrenching the aircraft's door open and jumping out, with Horus right behind him. Kesar was only a moment behind them himself, landing on the sands of Nuceria as Magnus glanced at the three of them before looking off somewhere else. Mortarion spoke immediately, demanding an answer "Magnus, what have you found?"
Kesar could taste the tension in the air, and feel it in his bones. It might not have been the work of those Archdaemons in the warp, but there was something awful, something that brought low even Primarchs awaiting. It all depended on what Magnus said. Was the Emperor a monster? Or did they simply misunderstand? The Cyclops glanced into the distance, then to the three Primarchs as he sighed. "Nothing."
"What?" Mortarion growled as he stepped closer. "How did you find nothing?"
Magnus stepped back, distracted by his brother's anger. Horus stepped towards the Pale King, grabbing his shoulder, "calm down, it's not his fault."
"Let go." Mortarion's words were ice, and Horus immediately complied. "We can't have come here for nothing! There has to be a sign. A mark. A remnant. A memory. Something. What happened here couldn't have just been wiped away. It can't. This had to have happened here, or else... when did he die? Where?"
"We haven't Mortarion." Kesar stepped forward, holding his hands up placatingly, "we've just arrived, there's plenty we can do."
Mortarion bristled, the words only seeming to fuel his irritation. "You're a psyker Magnus, you have to have found something. What have you been doing here otherwise?"
Horus didn't let Magnus respond, instead, the Breaker of Tyrants spoke soothingly to his brother, "Mortarion, can we talk in private?"
The Pale King glanced between the Primarchs before shaking his head, "fine", despite his body language betraying his true thoughts, at the end of the day, Mortarion still trusted Horus even now. The two Primarchs walked away as Kesar turned to Magnus.
"Did you really find nothing?"
"I couldn't find anything to share," Magnus spoke sadly, even as Kesar caught the double meaning in his words.
"Magnus," Kesar spoke with horror in his voice, "Mortarion will never forgive you for this. You have to - "
"I have to do this Kesar." The Cyclops interrupted the Second Anathema, his voice laced with adamantium, "Mortarion … he won't care, he just cares on if Angron was revived. It's black or white to him, there's no middle ground."
"He deserves to know brother." Kesar laid a hand on Magnus' shoulder, looking him in the eyes to convey how serious he was about this. "Mortarion considers Angron to be his brother, all of this … it's eating at him from the inside, just tell him."
"I can't Kesar!" Magnus shouted, a wave of force echoing within a psychic barrier the Cyclops instantly raised. "If I do, we lose two brothers instead of one."
"Do you trust me at least?"
A bitter laugh escaped Magnus. "I trust that you care. Too much for this."
"Mortarion deserves the truth, Magnus." Kesar seemed almost desperate to convince his brother, for he knew that this was a point of no return. "You're acting like the Emperor right now. I imagine he had similar logic for keeping knowledge of the Archdaemons from us."
Magnus froze, his eye staring at Kesar in an odd mix of pleading and anger, "this is different, I have good reasons for this, I need to do this."
"So. Did. He," Kesar said simply, as Magnus seemed to shrink into himself, looking bereft and lost. "What did you find? Tell me."
"Can you accept the consequences of this? The burden of a secret that could tear the Imperium in two." The sand of Nuceria seemed to swirl around the Primarch, almost energized at the prospect.
Kesar himself felt as if he was at the edge of a precipice, one he would never be able to escape after he jumped in. And yet, there was one flaw of Kesar's which ensured his decision. He cared. "I can."
"I'm sorry," Horus spoke first once the two brothers were far enough to avoid being overheard. "I know this isn't what you want."
"I hate this. All of it." Mortarion groused, wishing he could kill something and solve this. "I hate the Emperor for what he did, I hate Magnus for being useless, I hate Kesar for thinking he understands, I hate you because fuck you for what you said," Horus winced at that, maybe he did make things too personal. "And I hate this damn planet. It's a waste in every sense of the word."
"I … I know I said things I shouldn't have," Horus spoke from the heart, his own hurt bleeding into his voice. "You were angry because you were concerned, but I couldn't acknowledge that. If I did, I would have to acknowledge that our father did something awful." Horus snorted, remembering the good times he had with his father. "And I didn't want to do that."
"You still don't," Mortarion said bluntly. "Your love for him blinds you."
"Maybe it does." Even he had to admit that he might be biased here. "But I believe in him, what I fear is that you only care if he revived Angron or not." Horus took the plunge, laying out his deepest worry regarding the situation. "I fear that you won't care why the Emperor did it. You won't care about the circumstances or what the intention was. I fear that you will only care about a binary yes or no."
"I don't want to hear a good reason!" Mortarion exclaimed quietly to Horus. "I don't want us to accept this! What good is there for us in that?!"
"Closure." Horus remarked quietly, "It will help us accept the reality of this situation. And we need to face that fact...what's done is done."
"Closure?" Mortarion spoke with derision. "Closure is worthless, closure is what people tell themselves when they realize they can't live with their memories. Closure is what people use to pretend things never happened. You can't close your eyes and pretend it never happened!"
"Closure is what signifies acceptance Mortarion. It doesn't mean to forget, it means to accept what happened." This was dangerous territory for Horus, he knew Mortarion well enough that the idea of closure was almost antithetical to him. For decades he had spurned closure in regards to Barbarus, choosing to carry that weight on his soul instead. "What's done is done. We can't change what happened to Angron. Nothing we do can turn back time."
"I don't care." Horus forced himself to remain quiet instead of letting out a strangled scream. "I have seen necromancy before. I know how to do it even. I know more about it than anyone ever should thanks to my father." The last word was filled with utter loathing, and Horus knew exactly who he was referring to. "Every dead soul, every ghost, every wraith, every revenant, all of them suffered after being brought back. Angron suffered just like them, losing his mind, wishing for a past that already died."
This wasn't working, Horus thought, instead, he tried a different tact. "Mortarion, do you think Angron loves you? Does he consider you a brother?"
Mortarion looked at him with cold, weary eyes. "Don't you dare try and work that angle."
"Just answer the question," Horus snapped, his emotions boiling over.
It said something, that it took Mortarion a while to consider the question. Despite everything that had happened, the Pale King wasn't entirely sure. "...I think he does."
"And do you believe that Angron wishes the best for you?" Horus stepped towards Mortarion, placing a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it soothingly.
"I have to believe he does." Buried beneath Mortarion's rough voice, was a flicker of raw emotion. A vulnerability he desperately sought to hide.
"Then keep that in mind when you think about throwing your life away in the hopes of avenging him." Horus sighed, dragging Mortarion into a hug. "You might be one of a handful of people that understands him and his love. If you die … all of that fades away."
The Pale King didn't speak, just standing there upon the sands of Nuceria with his brother. For a minute, they stood there, the only sound being the haunting melody of the wind.
"Then what should I do?" Mortarion's voice wasn't weak, just confused. An odd tone for the Pale King nonetheless.
"I don't know. I wish I could tell you."
"I only know some of it. The intricacies of our father's work elude me." Magnus spoke in a mixture of awe and defeat, as he shared a secret that could split the Imperium apart. "He had no other choice if he wanted Angron to serve. When he arrived, all that was available was a corpse and a soul."
"Then what's the problem?" Kesar spoke up, confused. It sounded as if the only other choice the Emperor had was to let Angron die. "Was he supposed to just let Angron rot?"
"His return to the world of the living was met with too many complications." Magnus seemed to struggle over the wording as he broke down the issues as he saw. "Our father didn't have the power needed to revive him without the Nails, and they anchored themselves within him."
"Would he have known the risks in the first place?" Kesar inquired, tilting his head even as his mind furiously worked through the alternate outcomes of such a scenario.
"I believe he would have." An illusion formed in front of the Primarch, light itself bent to show what Magnus had seen. A vision of the battlefield after the last of Angron's family had died, with the Nucerians dying as the Emperor arrived. "To revive a soul, you need power. To revive a Primarch, you need even more power." Magnus ended the illusion, waiting until Kesar looked him in the eye before he continued. "Our father took that power from the souls of the Highriders. And I believe those that die on Nuceria feed our brother's soul to this day."
"That's what it takes to keep him alive? The lives of a whole planet?" Kesar had always considered tampering with souls to be a line he would never cross, and to think that the Emperor had done so …
"All their rage, their pain, their burning essence. Kindling to a flame." Magnus spoke as if he was lecturing. "In a way, Angron truly has become an eater of a world. Maybe even others. Perhaps this is why he so brutally destroys those in his way."
"He subconsciously feels the need to kill to remain alive," Kesar spoke with horror at the revelation. "How could this happen?" Kesar asked aloud, not necessarily to Magnus, "Was Angron damned to this fate from the start? Was there ever any chance for him?"
Magnus looked as if he didn't want to say anymore, yet he seemed to will his voice to speak up, "I don't want to think this was destined to happen any more than any of us were fated to end up where we were now. Yet I can't help but feel that somewhere in time, there might have been a chance for him."
"So that is it?" Kesar looked over at this brother, feeling the weight of this possibility, "Father, or anyone for that matter was simply too late to ever help Angron." Such a notion filled Kesar with dread, as his hand subconsciously brushed against an old wound given by the Lord of Change on Valhalla all those years ago.
"Now you see why I can't share this with Mortarion." Magnus seemed lost even now. Determined yes, but bearing a weight of secrets. "The moment he hears 'fueled by souls', he'll turn on the Emperor no matter how doomed of a struggle it would be."
"I hate this." The words came out of Kesar against his will. Maybe if he had spent more time with Angron, could things have changed? Was such a line of thought even productive? "I can either lose Mortarion now by speaking the truth, or lose him later when he discovers it for himself."
"There's another option." Magnus seemed to hesitate, as he chewed on his lip in thought. "I could erase this conversation from your mind entirely, taking on the burden of knowledge alone."
[] "I couldn't ask you to do that." Despite it all, it was better to learn of the Emperor's horrific secrets than live in ignorance.
[] "Alright, get it over with." This knowledge will only hurt Kesar. There was no point in risking a relationship with Mortarion over it.
Lion furrowed his brow at the sight he saw. When the Emperor sent him to Nuceria, he was expecting a particularly skilled diviner, or perhaps some extensive infiltration net seeking to undermine the Imperium. He wasn't sure what secret the Emperor sought to protect, only that he was meant to prevent anyone from investigating the planet. "Rogal, this assignment has just become far more complicated."
At his side, the Unyielding One stared implacably at the mixed Death Guard, Luna Wolf, Eternal Warden, and Thousand Son fleet. A small assortment from each Legion, perhaps a total of 20 thousand Astartes at most. "Only if they insist on staying. It's possible they may simply have been investigating Angron's past for the Tribunal."
"I doubt we would be so fortunate." Lion shifted in his seat, coming up with a hundred strategies on what to do. "None of us are meant to know whatever secret of father's is on that world. And they may not listen unless we inform them in person."
"It would also be good form to greet the eleventh." Dorn's addition caused Lion to nod in agreement.
"Yes, it would." Standing up from his seat, the First Primarch gestured to an Astartes to take command as he began to walk towards the hangar alongside his brother. Directing orders to the fleet and the 40 thousand Astartes within, he spoke even as he began to walk. "Prepare both Legions for offensive operations, do not engage unless you receive an order from both I and Lord Primarch Dorn."
Below on the planet itself, Kesar looked up as Mortarion and Horus approached. Sitting there, he was about to make his decision on if he should reveal the information or not, only for Mortarion to pause. "Say again." Speaking to a vox unit in his mask, the Pale King seemed to have a conversation with his sons in orbit. "Acknowledged, don't do anything. Forward communications requests to me." Mortarion curled his hands before taking a deep breath. "Horus, Kesar, Magnus, Lion and Dorn just arrived in orbit."
"How, we've only been here for hours," Horus spoke up in surprise, as Magnus winced.
"I must have triggered some sort of detection ward." The Cyclops rubbed his head sheepishly. "I'm sorry, I was more focused on figuring out what happened than keeping it secret."
"Damn it Magnus, you've been less than worthless." Mortarion spat the words out, as Kesar's eyes widened in surprise, only for Horus to smack the Pale King over the head.
"Don't you dare Mortarion." The Breaker of Tyrants spoke in an acidic voice. "Magnus did everything he could here, don't take out your anger on him."
Mortarion turned to glare at Horus for a moment, a brief exchange seemed to pass as Mortarion gave a curt nod. "You're right. I shouldn't have said that."
[] Don't say anything. Mortarion is already at the end of his rope. To rile him up with knowledge now, before meeting with Lion and Dorn would only serve to inflame tensions. Regardless of how much Kesar's relationship with Mortarion would be harmed in the future. (Chosen by default if Kesar accepts the mindwipe, albeit without the risk to Kesar and Mortarion's future relationship)
[] Share what Magnus has found. Revealing what Magnus found would ensure Mortarion continues to remain amicable with Kesar. While Magnus would experience significant blowback from Mortarion over keeping this secret, perhaps Horus and Kesar can keep him calm? Magnus himself would be highly displeased with this.
[] Try and make Magnus share what he found. Trying to get Magnus to share the information himself won't be easy. But if Mortarion hears it from him, then perhaps their relationship may be salvaged. However, there is a large chance Magnus may not even decide to share this information even if pressed.
[] Write-in
GM Note: Well, finals are all but done, and things are looking less busy for me for the next two weeks which is nice. Finally got time to write and here we go. As before, 12 hour moratorium.
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Can we have a write in here? Because it seems prudent at this point to 1. keep the knowledge, and 2. Let Magnus know we are going to share what he told us with Mort and that we expect him to be there explaining details. When Mort asks why Magnus didn't say anything at first, we simply explain that he was understandably freaking out about the matter and needed to discuss with us first. Doesn't matter if Magnus wants to say anything or not, we can bring him in a headlock if we have to.
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- Elsewhere
I'm fine with a write-in for this, I've added the option of one. Although I will say that if you do reveal it, you are going to try and explain why Magnus didn't give the truth immediately.
So...things are tense...and I agree with jj here, there's ways to write this in that fit IC and will prevent us from just dealing with three crappy hands with bad outcomes.
And as for not revealing right away, simple, for something as serious as this...Magnus was more afraid of revealing what he knew too soon and causing a civil war than the blowback he'd get for not revealing what he found too soon.
There's still a lot to uncover but we won't be able to find it if we're busy trying to restrain Morty.
Wait...we could even, validly, point out that the archdaemons would love nothing more than to see them turned against the emperor, so they'd throw up smokescreens of various kinds, thus needing more inquiries than Magnus was able to rush divine.
For example, an in depth examination of the Nails and the towers of the people that put them in, the flesh crafters....maybe this is the chance for my conspiracy theory to be proven right, and this was a Dark Eldar playground.
Uniting all these primarchs in a "KILL ALL DARK ELDAR!" mini crusade would be a very good bonding experience
And as for not revealing right away, simple, for something as serious as this...Magnus was more afraid of revealing what he knew too soon and causing a civil war than the blowback he'd get for not revealing what he found too soon.
There's still a lot to uncover but we won't be able to find it if we're busy trying to restrain Morty.
Wait...we could even, validly, point out that the archdaemons would love nothing more than to see them turned against the emperor, so they'd throw up smokescreens of various kinds, thus needing more inquiries than Magnus was able to rush divine.
For example, an in depth examination of the Nails and the towers of the people that put them in, the flesh crafters....maybe this is the chance for my conspiracy theory to be proven right, and this was a Dark Eldar playground.
Uniting all these primarchs in a "KILL ALL DARK ELDAR!" mini crusade would be a very good bonding experience
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J.I.M.S
BookWyrm
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- Latveria
F U D G E. I hate this so much it's too freaking good. Ya did great Daemon Hunter!
This bit especially rubs salt onto the wound.
Welp I'm voting to keep the memories and convince Magnus to tell Mortarion. Excited as to whether or not Lion and Dorn are gonna scrap.
This bit especially rubs salt onto the wound.
Welp I'm voting to keep the memories and convince Magnus to tell Mortarion. Excited as to whether or not Lion and Dorn are gonna scrap.
[] Write-in: Inform Magnus that we are telling Mortarion and Horus, yes WE as in the both of us. Understanding that he is incredibly worried about doing so, we nevertheless must inform him, and do so now before this gets out of hand, which it certainly will, as there is no possible way the Plotter won't use this against all of us if we leave here like this. We'll inform them together and then work with Horus to temper Mortarion's initial reaction. Something must be done, but that something must be viable. When Mortarion inevitably asks as to why Magnus didn't share immediately, be truthful, Magnus was terrified of the results of such, and so Kesar who he trusts to express his fears and work through his thoughts before attempting to explain things to a more difficult audience in Mort and Horus.
No letting Magnus wiggle his way out of this. We're telling, we're making sure Magnus helps with the telling. Mortarion can easily understand that what Magnus found is terrifying and that he needed to discuss it with a friendly brother first to help work through the insanity of the matter.
No letting Magnus wiggle his way out of this. We're telling, we're making sure Magnus helps with the telling. Mortarion can easily understand that what Magnus found is terrifying and that he needed to discuss it with a friendly brother first to help work through the insanity of the matter.
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- Location
- Sweden
Welp maybe the eldar can unfuck this but I am afraid that the only one that can do so is Isha.
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- Elsewhere
This is a valid write-in I can confirm.
- Pronouns
- he
it would be interesting if the civil war starts not do to Chaos, but the Emperors own actions and a horrified son that only wanted the best
Not sure I want them interfering. They're incredibly good at screwing themselves at the critical moment.
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- USA
Well... crap.
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- Sweden
Maybe but we are already kinda fucked.
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- Elsewhere
There's a reason why Eldrad isn't getting involved in this. He very much doesn't want to become a figure in inter-Primarch conflict.
I will say this will tank your relationships if you try it
[] "I couldn't ask you to do that." Despite it all, it was better to learn of the Emperor's horrific secrets than live in ignorance.
[] Write-in: when speaking to Magnus, "Look, I understand why you are terrified of revealing this to Mortarion, I am tempted to let you wipe my memory for it...but remember how you felt when you confirmed about the Archdaemons from me and how much it hurt that I kept it from you? Imagine how it will gut Mortarion when he finds out you kept this from him just after you and he were starting mend bridges, as I can only imagine that happened when he mentioned going to you for aid.
Keeping secrets like this, from each other, will only tear each other apart. After my service in the Maelstrom, the emperor gave me Boons...one of the ones I asked him for was the right to tell all my brothers, including you, the truth about what is in the Warp and the Archdaemons therein. In that spirit of trust, fraterinity, and understanding, I ask you to work with me on this and follow my lead. Especially as there is an Archdaemon that delights in precisely this level of infighting and deceit.
So please come with me and tell Mortarion, if he hears it from me and only me, it will not only lessen the credibility of what we are trying to say but will make it that much harder not to lose another brother. We have to do this now, while the wounds are still fresh, otherwise they will scar and it will only make things worse. Between myself and Horus, and you coming through, we will be able to temper Mortarion's wrath and get to the bottom of this, but it won't work if you don't come with me. In a very real sense, you are now in a position to determine the fate of the Imperium in no small sense. I understand your fear...but if we hesitate now, the ones that hurt your legion will win and revel in the pain and suffering that result. So come with me brother, trust in me, trust in mortarion and horus...but most of all trust in yourself, that you will be able to along with the rest of us, see this through."
Before we got to Mortarion, Kesar gives him a big, heartfelt hug and says only four words: "I believe in you." and turns around, trusting Magnus to walk with him to speak to Mortarion.
To Mortarion, "I have finished conversing with Magnus and while I wanted to wait for more of our brothers to join us, Lion's presence pushes me to reveal it sooner...In light of my service in the Maelstrom, the Emperor granted me full authority and right to reveal the secrets that he has been keeping about the Warp and the beings within it. I say this because what Magnus found when he was divining is not only in line with one of the most powerful beings would show in order to create strife and discord between us...but it is a being that revels in magic, and so would be able to create illusions or false divinings. However, as without this knowledge, Magnus only saw visions of something so horrific, so wrong that he wanted to gather more evidence and prove it before bringing it to us, however we arrived too early and thus caught him before further investigation. Magnus was in short caught between sharing nothing and being thought a fool, or revealing what he could only suspect and thus cause a near civil war.
Brothers, there is something so wrong and flawed on this planet that we all felt it, psyker or no. We need to take anything we cannot prove or have verified beyond means of divination with a grain of salt. I do not know if the beings of chaos are behind this...but the battlecry of Angron's legion, "Blood for the Primarch, skulls for the twelve legion...that is near word for word the battlecry of one of the forces of the four most strongest beings in the Warp, the same ones that Horus came face to face in a recent journey in the warp. Mortarion, I ask that you forgive Magnus for wanting to show the prudence we all have been demanding of him and seeking to establish solid evidence of what he Saw. After hearing him, I can understand why he was terrified of sharing.
In summation, there is much we do not know for sure and we have to verify it more in depth as there are two terrible scenarios I see here: either Chaos created this situation in order to tear the Imperium apart, or the Emperor actually did this of his own free will and is thus clearly compromised, as best as we can tell one of these is true, and we must find out which. There are other scenarios of a more mixed nature but those require even more evidence and only prove my point.
As we do, I will share what I have learned about the Archdaemons and their forces so that you too can understand why I am concerned they may have been an influence here. And yes Horus, before you say anything, i am fully aware that I might be wrong and that the presence of 'Chaos' as it is referred to might not be here...but that is why I plead with you all that we must focus on finding the solid evidence of what has happened here. Even if they were not, there is something in this world that will draw them if they haven't shown already."
We pull at the heartstrings of all involved *shamelessly* because we are the cinnamon bun and we can get away with doing that, we can use this as a start of revealing the truth of chaos to the others as well as pointing out that even if there's no chaos connection on Nurceria...the fact that the nails were leaving the legion open to Khorne's influence means we need to get to the bottom of this planet's fuckery fast. yeah we're leaning in on our hyper focus on chaos a bit but IC it makes sense we at least are worried about it, especially after what Mortarion revealed about the battlecry, and it will at least give Magnus a valid reason why he was mum as well as giving Mortarion a valid reason to forgive Magnus for actually acting like everyone demands of him. Plus, it gives Mortarion the reason to bring up the fact that the Bloody Laughter was what awoke Angron to the fact that he was dead, as well as letting Horus elaborate on what he saw when he skirted the Blood and Thunder war
[] Write-in: when speaking to Magnus, "Look, I understand why you are terrified of revealing this to Mortarion, I am tempted to let you wipe my memory for it...but remember how you felt when you confirmed about the Archdaemons from me and how much it hurt that I kept it from you? Imagine how it will gut Mortarion when he finds out you kept this from him just after you and he were starting mend bridges, as I can only imagine that happened when he mentioned going to you for aid.
Keeping secrets like this, from each other, will only tear each other apart. After my service in the Maelstrom, the emperor gave me Boons...one of the ones I asked him for was the right to tell all my brothers, including you, the truth about what is in the Warp and the Archdaemons therein. In that spirit of trust, fraterinity, and understanding, I ask you to work with me on this and follow my lead. Especially as there is an Archdaemon that delights in precisely this level of infighting and deceit.
So please come with me and tell Mortarion, if he hears it from me and only me, it will not only lessen the credibility of what we are trying to say but will make it that much harder not to lose another brother. We have to do this now, while the wounds are still fresh, otherwise they will scar and it will only make things worse. Between myself and Horus, and you coming through, we will be able to temper Mortarion's wrath and get to the bottom of this, but it won't work if you don't come with me. In a very real sense, you are now in a position to determine the fate of the Imperium in no small sense. I understand your fear...but if we hesitate now, the ones that hurt your legion will win and revel in the pain and suffering that result. So come with me brother, trust in me, trust in mortarion and horus...but most of all trust in yourself, that you will be able to along with the rest of us, see this through."
Before we got to Mortarion, Kesar gives him a big, heartfelt hug and says only four words: "I believe in you." and turns around, trusting Magnus to walk with him to speak to Mortarion.
To Mortarion, "I have finished conversing with Magnus and while I wanted to wait for more of our brothers to join us, Lion's presence pushes me to reveal it sooner...In light of my service in the Maelstrom, the Emperor granted me full authority and right to reveal the secrets that he has been keeping about the Warp and the beings within it. I say this because what Magnus found when he was divining is not only in line with one of the most powerful beings would show in order to create strife and discord between us...but it is a being that revels in magic, and so would be able to create illusions or false divinings. However, as without this knowledge, Magnus only saw visions of something so horrific, so wrong that he wanted to gather more evidence and prove it before bringing it to us, however we arrived too early and thus caught him before further investigation. Magnus was in short caught between sharing nothing and being thought a fool, or revealing what he could only suspect and thus cause a near civil war.
Brothers, there is something so wrong and flawed on this planet that we all felt it, psyker or no. We need to take anything we cannot prove or have verified beyond means of divination with a grain of salt. I do not know if the beings of chaos are behind this...but the battlecry of Angron's legion, "Blood for the Primarch, skulls for the twelve legion...that is near word for word the battlecry of one of the forces of the four most strongest beings in the Warp, the same ones that Horus came face to face in a recent journey in the warp. Mortarion, I ask that you forgive Magnus for wanting to show the prudence we all have been demanding of him and seeking to establish solid evidence of what he Saw. After hearing him, I can understand why he was terrified of sharing.
In summation, there is much we do not know for sure and we have to verify it more in depth as there are two terrible scenarios I see here: either Chaos created this situation in order to tear the Imperium apart, or the Emperor actually did this of his own free will and is thus clearly compromised, as best as we can tell one of these is true, and we must find out which. There are other scenarios of a more mixed nature but those require even more evidence and only prove my point.
As we do, I will share what I have learned about the Archdaemons and their forces so that you too can understand why I am concerned they may have been an influence here. And yes Horus, before you say anything, i am fully aware that I might be wrong and that the presence of 'Chaos' as it is referred to might not be here...but that is why I plead with you all that we must focus on finding the solid evidence of what has happened here. Even if they were not, there is something in this world that will draw them if they haven't shown already."
We pull at the heartstrings of all involved *shamelessly* because we are the cinnamon bun and we can get away with doing that, we can use this as a start of revealing the truth of chaos to the others as well as pointing out that even if there's no chaos connection on Nurceria...the fact that the nails were leaving the legion open to Khorne's influence means we need to get to the bottom of this planet's fuckery fast. yeah we're leaning in on our hyper focus on chaos a bit but IC it makes sense we at least are worried about it, especially after what Mortarion revealed about the battlecry, and it will at least give Magnus a valid reason why he was mum as well as giving Mortarion a valid reason to forgive Magnus for actually acting like everyone demands of him. Plus, it gives Mortarion the reason to bring up the fact that the Bloody Laughter was what awoke Angron to the fact that he was dead, as well as letting Horus elaborate on what he saw when he skirted the Blood and Thunder war
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My concern is that your write in... only asks Magnus to do the thing, instead of telling Magnus we're doing the thing, and explicitly putting him on the spot for some of the explanation, and then explains things instead of having Magnus to the explanation himself with Kesar merely introducing things/fielding Mortarion's questions about why Magnus didn't bring it up earlier. He's still got a choice, even if I expect the DC to be rather low for him deciding to follow Kesar on this. Also, I just feel like Magnus doing the explanation would work better than Kesar doing it for Mortarion's sake.
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So, just so I'm reading this right, this is my major takeaways from this write-in. Do note that I'm not going to have this word for word, but the general ideas will be there.
Magnus, this secret is like the Archdaemons. It'll hurt Mortarion as much as it hurt you to keep that secret.
- Basically explain to Magnus what's going to happen and what happens if he doesn't join in
Regardless of Magnus agrees or not, here's the main points for Kesar to say
- Lion arriving pushed me to reveal this now
- I can share info on Chaos, and what Magnus found is something so bad that I'm very worried it's a Chaos plot
- It's basically Tzeentch's MO and he can absolutely do this to drive us apart
- Angron's Legion has worrisome similarities to Khornate Legions
- If Chaos isn't involved, Emps has been compromised
-- If Emps is compromised, we've got to get evidence on what or why he did this
- I know I'm biased which is why we need more evidence
I'm not actually rolling for this, I actually know what the characters are going to do myself.
Yeah that's more than fine, and actually works better in this case.
Pretty much, this is all but outright forcing him to come and is basically forcing him to come in spirit while giving him the choices, their consequences, and letting him decide if he wants to come clean...or deal with the other options...I cannot say that I think this version of Magnus will hold back if we do the above and go to speak with Mortarion.
I added in a bit about a hug and saying 4 rather crucial words that I think will cement him agreeing/coming with us
Yup, otherwise Kesar wanted to wait while everyone was together so it was all equal.
Yup, not trying to say it's definitely chaos...but there is some chaos grade shady shite going on and we're in the 'trust nothing right off the bat mode'
This is 1100% true btw, he'd legit be going "Why didn't *I* think of that later.
Which it does.
He's missing his soul and something went wrong in the ritual.
I WILL FIND PROOF THAT IT WAS DARK ELDAR DAMMIT!
Yup.
Hopefully I did a good job
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That you did, just keep in mind that this very much suggests to the others that you need to investigate further, and that Kesar does suspect Chaos is behind this.
Both of which are valid and IC, if we didn't have meta knowledge beyond what Kesar knew...I'd think it was chaos too in his place, and it's also showing he's self aware enough of his biases and is willing to practice what he preaches about setting them aside if need be, which is something we're trying to get Mortarion to do...
Again, i didn't want Kesar *sure* that it was chaos or not willing to consider it wasn't...but considering how much of a monofocus he has...it would be legit out of character and doubly suspicious for the other primarchs if it didn't factor into Kesar's thinking somehow.
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